Rangers of Araluen Island
by Djanka Lee
Summary: Will's only ever wanted to be an Earthbender, but he'll have to settle for being a Ranger's apprentice. With the threat of invasion from the Fire Nation, led by Morgarath the Betrayer, Araluen Island depends on Will and his friends. Based on books 1 & 2 set in the A:TLA world. Chapter 9 is up!
1. Chapter 1

Water. Earth. Fire. Air.

Long ago, the four nations lived together in harmony. Then everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked. Only the Avatar, master of all four elements, could stop them, but when the world needed him most, he vanished.

Thirty-five years after the Avatar's disappearance, Baron Morgarath of Araluen Island, betrayed his countrymen and promised the Fire Nation an easy victory in Earth Kingdom territory.

The Avatar was gone, but heroes were not. Earthbenders, Waterbenders, warriors, and the Araluen Island Rangers and a mysterious new Ranger named Halt repelled the attack.

Araluen Island is at peace now, but Morgarath still lives, and he plots. His revenge is nearly ready.

Thirteen years after the Battle of Araluen Island, the only concern for a boy in the Redmont kitchens was to avoid notice. The boy, Will, was small and slim, a head shorter than other boys — and some girls — his age, and his eyes were fixed on a tray of hot buns. He hid while kitchen apprentices rushed, sweat on their foreheads, curses held between their lips, as they tried to keep up with the unyielding pace demanded by Kitchenmaster Chubb.

Chubb was a furnace, red faced and massive, his dark topknot making his head look like an onion. He darted between pots and pans, ovens and coldboxes, considering flavors and textures and whatever else it was that made the food from his kitchens legendary across Araluen Island. Pausing at one pot, Chubb twisted his wrist and fingers, bending a gulp of stew to his mouth.

"More garlic!" he boomed.

The white-clothed apprentices scurried this way and that, carrying hot foot out, bringing cold ingredients in, running away from the wooden ladle that Kitchenmaster Chubb wielded like a mace. When one lingered too long, they yelped and clutched their head where Chubb's ladle cracked down on them. From an outside view, the kitchen was a beehive of intensity with no breaks, but Will knew better. Every ten minutes, the kitchen emptied for a handful of seconds - long enough to steal a hot bun and escape out the open window. Will had observed the first lull and confirmed its existence ten minutes later. Now, he waited for the third and his opportunity for fresh hot buns.

Will remained deep in the shadows between a cabinet of dishes and the washbasin; he was still as a cricket-mouse. People rarely seemed to notice what they didn't expect, and who would expect a small, brown-haired boy in dark clothing hiding in the corner of the kitchen? Well, Chubb might, but his attention was consumed by his bumbling apprentices.

"You!" Chubb shouted, and Will bit his lip to remain still. Chubb hadn't seen him; the Kitchenmaster's attention was on a dark-haired apprentice who had dropped a rice ball and tried to replace it on the platter. Chubb sent them to mop until they learned to handle food with respect.

One apprentice, Jenny, escaped the ladle more than others. Jenny was a chubby, blonde girl with an irrepressible smile, despite her red cheeks and sweat-dampened clothes. She was three years old than will and had been a ward of Baron Arald alongside him, and she had cared for Will like an older sister. Jenny was gone from the ward two months now, after Chubb had selected her as an apprentice.

Will felt a lingering jealousy that he tried to muffle. Jenny had always wanted to work in the kitchens, and now she was. Will had always wanted to be an Earthbending warrior, like his father, and … he could still be an Earthbender. He had to be. He had yet to manifest that ability, but maybe he was a late bloomer. People sometimes talked about growing spurts, so maybe that applied to bending, too. Will still had two years before he requested a place in the Earthbending Battleschool. Two years before he could prove that he could live up to his father's memory, that of a mighty Earthbender.

The kitchen was empty. He didn't know how much time he'd lost thinking. He should have waited another ten minutes, but he wanted those hot buns before they became cold buns. Will shot from his hiding place and grabbed three.

"You there!" Kitchenmaster Chubb's voice shook the walls.

Will was steps away from the window. He could jump out, hide, and eat his food. Chubb would never have to know it was him. Will shivered with fear and faced Chubb.

"Will!" Chubb was blazing, and if Will hadn't witnessed him Waterbending, he would have thought Chubb the vanguard for the Fire Nation.

Minutes later, Will slumped out of the kitchens, rubbing the sore spot on his head. His stomach was still empty, and his ears rang with Chubb's voice. Every apprentice had hurried back into the kitchen to watch someone who wasn't them be the target of Chubb's rage. All of Redmont would know what happened by the end of the day. Horace would find out, and he would bully Will with the knowledge. Even worse, Alyss would find out; she would look at him with pity and offer to cook him a hot bun. Will didn't want Alyss' pity. Jenny's sympathetic look had been humiliating enough.

Back in the kitchens, Chubb had only needed to look at his apprentices before they scurried back to their work. Chubb tossed the stolen hot buns on the counter; they would feed the chicken-pigs later. His ladle rose and fell as he noticed apprentices not working hard enough.

He didn't notice the shadow within a shadow in the corner. Ten minutes later, a gray-and-green cloaked figure selected a hot bun and jumped out the window.


	2. Chapter 2

Two years after attempting to steal hot buns from the Redmont kitchens, Will had forgotten the smell, the ache of his skull, even the humiliation of Chubb shouting at him in front of the kitchen apprentices. Will had not forgotten his desperation to be an Earthbender and a warrior and finally be the son his father had always wanted.

Will ignored the fact that he didn't know what sort of son his father had envisioned him being. His father had died in the Battle of Araluen Island, and Will had no memories of him. Will's mother had died soon after, or so said the note that had been pinned to Will's blanket when he'd been found at outside of Redmont castle fifteen years ago. His father died a hero, the note had said. His mother died in childbirth. Take care of him. His name is Will.

To deal with the loss of people he couldn't remember, Will had created a living dream of who his father had been. An Earthbender, naturally, with broad shoulders and thick muscles, able to hurl half a mountainside against invading Fire Nation troops. His father had been the pride of the Araluen Island elite forces, trained in one of the Earthbending Battleschools, and hardened during the long war with the Fire Nation. Will could rise to the same standard his father had set. He had to. And Will only had a day to discover his Earthbending, a day before the Choosing ceremony, where he would ask for placement at the Battleschool and belong to that same, elite rank as his father.

The pressure to succeed to his own, imagined standards weighed upon Will. He had avoided his wardmates and most other people the entire today, having no desire to face Alyss' sympathy or Horace's smug face; several weeks back, Horace had overheard Will confiding to Alyss his desire to join the Battleschool. Since then, Horace had used Will's dream was an easy target for mockery. Will's current hiding spot was on the shadowed grounds of Redmont castle, hidden in a thicket surrounding the western keep tower. It was a comfortable position, with the keep tower wall to his back and the sturdy outer wall at his side.

Heavy footsteps caught his attention. Will held his breath and kept still: his wardmate, Horace, approached Will's position, swinging his head this way and that as if searching for something.

Where Will was small and lean, Horace was tall for his age. From a distance, Horace looked like a full grown man. Even at fiften, Horace was built with defined, tanned muscles from long hours spent outside Earthbending. Horace had joined the ward at age six, after both of his parents had died defending against a Fire Nation raid. He walked within an arm's reach of Will, close enough for Will to smell Horace's bare feet. Horace didn't notice his wardmate and continued on. Will released his breath.

Curling his fist, Will focused on the packed earth. He gritted his teeth, and his knuckles turned white from effort, but the earth remained stubbornly still. He wasn't an Earthbender. No - he wasn't an Earthbender yet. He still had until tomorrow morning.

But if he wasn't one … he would still join the Battleschool. There were non-benders who learned to wield staffs, swords, and axes, and they could be noble warriors. Will felt relief. He would live up to his father's legacy somehow.

He moved around the keep tower while remaining in the thicket. His jacket caught on a twig, and he challenged himself to dislodge it without rustling the branches. He mostly succeeded. When he reached the opposite side of the keep he stopped. He hadn't had a goal destination in mind, but he had one now.

In an alcove near the stables, Alyss was alone in the flickering torchlight. Her arms were raised, as if hugging a thin person, and she spun in slow circles. Will cocked his head as he approached her, and he couldn't help but smile. Anyone else doing this strange, dance-like movement would look absurd. Alyss made it look effortless. She was built like a sapling and almost as tall as Horace. Her feathery blonde hair was tied at the back of her head, though some strands stuck to the sweat on her neck. She had joined the ward not long after Will. Like him, she couldn't remember her parents, but she had the memories of those who had known them — her mother a great Waterbending healer, and her father in the Diplomatic Corp — to learn of her past.

"Who are you dancing with?" Will asked.

She opened her pale blue eyes and smiled at him. "Nobody. And I'm not dancing." She moved a few more of the circles before stopping. "I'm meditating."

"I thought meditating was sitting still and not thinking," Will said. There were daily meditations at Redmont castle, and most of the Earthbenders attended. Horace had been sneaking out to join them, though he swore he didn't when Will or Alyss called him on it.

"Meditating can take many forms," she said. "Lady Pauline taught me this kind. She said the Airbenders used to do this."

Lady Pauline was the head of the Diplomatic Corp for Araluen Island, though she spent most of her time at Redmont castle. She was tall, blonde, and slim, much like Will imagined Alyss would look in twenty years. Lady Pauline was also Alyss' unofficial mentor, and, after tomorrow's Choosing, Alyss would be her full-time apprentice.

"Is Lady Pauline an Airbender?"

Alyss frowned at him, but there was humor in her eyes. "Have you been daydreaming through history lessons?"

"Of course not." Will shook his head. "But how would she know?"

"Before all of the Airbenders … well, her parents lived with them for a time." She looked to the east; on a clear day, one could just make out the shadows of the three mountains housing the empty Eastern Air Temple. "She tells me she remembers the Airbenders, the last few who survived. They were gentle, but very strong. They knew how to adapt, how to bend, but never break."

They sound a lot like you, Will wanted to say. Instead, he said, "And they did this dance-meditation?"

Alyss nodded. "Instead of focusing on breathing, like normal meditation, the goal here is to focus on the steps and the movement of the body. When you're fully in tune, Lady Pauline says, you could move like that for hours and only feel like a few minutes have passed." She shrugged philosophically. "I haven't reached that point yet, but soon, hopefully."

"You'll get there," Will said, and he meant it. He warmed inside with Alyss' smile. Talking with Alyss took his mind off the Choosing, and he didn't want to leave yet. "Can you teach me?"

She grinned wider than Will could remember. "Yes!" She hid her smile behind her hand and cleared her throat. "I'm not an expert, and I only know a few forms."

Will shrugged. "That's more than I know."

Alyss walked him through a basic meditation form. Will held his arms in front of him, elbows bent, muscles relaxed. He moved in slow circles "like a leaf on the wind," as Alyss had said. She had him stay on the balls of his feet and keep his body loose. The idea was to let the air push him, yet for him to retain enough control that he agreed to the air's direction.

Within ten minutes, both were moving as if in silent, solo dances in the castle yard. Alyss closed her eyes, and Will tried, but he didn't trust himself not to hit Alyss. He felt calmer, less concerned about what tomorrow brought; he didn't know if it was the meditation or just being with Alyss. Will let the meditation wrap him up, so he only had to focus on moving from one foot to the other and feeling the light breeze on his face.

"Alyss? Will?" Horace's voice broke the comfort of the moment.

Will spun to the alcove's opening. Horace was there. How long had he been watching? Will's face was hot, and he resisted pressing his hands against it.

"Hello, Horace," Alyss said calmly. "Do you need something?"

Horace didn't hide his eager grin; what stories would he spread across the castle by tomorrow?

"Curfew is coming," he said. "I'm supposed to bring you back."

Alyss nodded her head. "Thank you. Will?"

Will grunted and followed Alyss and Horace back to the rooms they shared as wardmates. Alyss maintained an easy conversation about Horace's hope for the Choosing tomorrow. Will didn't know why she bothered. Horace would be accepted into the Earthbending Battleschool: he was an Earthbender; he was a tough, athletic boy; and he had just the right level of intelligence to understand an order and not question it.

"What about you, Will?" Horace asked over his shoulder. "I'm surprised you weren't practicing your Earthbending."

Will avoided looking at him. Alyss, thankfully, distracted Horace by described the Airbending meditation.

"Are you going to try to join the Diplomatic Corp, too, Will?" Horace asked. He sneered. "I'm sure they could find one of those dresses to fit you."

"There's men in the Diplomatic Corp," Will said.

"Men, sure," Horace said. "But you have to be able to see over a desk to talk to the person behind it."

Will glared at him, and he blushed hotly. Horace smiled, knowing Will's lack of height bothered him, and Will had no follow up to it. The boys had clashed for the past several years, and the number of times Horace had won a verbal fight could be counted on one hand. That was the only way Horace could count, Will thought, on his hands.

"We'll all find a place tomorrow," Alyss said.

"Of course we will," Horace said. "Some of us will be in the Battleschool, and some of us will plow fields."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Will said, "they have bull pigs for that now."

Horace mouthed Will's words as he worked through the insult. Before he fully understood it, Will turned on his foot and ran, laughing at the dumb look on Horace's face.

"Yea, run away! Run away, Will No-Family! You've never belonged anywhere, and you never will!"

Will's happiness evaporated, but he wouldn't turn back to let Horace see. He disappeared into the shadows of the yard and swarmed up the side of the stables. He ran along the roof and, where it butted against one of the three towers anchoring the defensive outer wall, climbed up the tower. There were guards on duty, but they weren't focused on people inside the castle, and they had been too far away to hear Horace's shouting. Will kept to the shifting shadows of trees and clouds on the tower, moving in time with them until he reached the circular, pitched roof.

From here, he saw the Tarbus River and, beyond that, Wensley Village, where moonlight glinted off thatched roofs. The forest along the western edge of Wensley Village was dark, but Will often enjoyed exploring the parts of the forest on the castle side of the Tarbus. In the daylight, it was a softly green and mossy place. He rarely went there at night. Even still, the sight of the place was a relief from the anxiety gripping him of what tomorrow would bring. He was terrified that Horace was right.

Will noticed a strange, twisting string that seemed to rise from deep in the forest. It reflected moonlight, and he realized it was smoke from a chimney. Who would have a chimney in the forest? Will answered the question as soon as he thought it: Halt the Ranger. Will often forgot about Halt, a strange and intimidating figure who some said could walk into a tree on the north side of the forest and exit on the south side. That sort of magic didn't exist, Will knew, but the few times he'd seen Halt, there was a lingering sort of unease around the man that made any sort of magic beyond bending seem possible.

Staring at the thin line of smoke, Will tried to force down his fear of tomorrow. He would be in the Battleschool. He had to be. He was meant for more than working a farm.

He was meant for more than working a farm. He had to be. He would be in the Battleschool.

Ten minutes ago, Will still had his dream of being in the Battleschool. Now, he looked at each of the Craftmasters in the baron's office, his eyes desperate with the need for a place to belong.

The Craftmasters were each accomplished in their own field, and they had gathered in Baron Arald's office because they had openings for apprentices, and there were three wards who needed an apprenticeship. Lady Pauline - tall, blonde, and elegantly simple in her green and blue Diplomatic Corp dress — had accepted Alyss, as everyone had known she would. Despite knowing her future was secure, Alyss had still breathed in relief and now radiated a quiet contentment.

Horace's placement in the Battleschool was assured, too. He had been chosen by Battlemaster Rodney, who was Earthbending personified; he was tanned and practically dressed; his arms and legs were wrapped with muscle; and his square jaw was always set with certainty. He was the type of man who would remain calm in a forest fire.

There were two other Craftmasters in the baron's office. Nigel was a thin, balding man dressed in a scribe's gray robes. He led the Scribeschool, which made legal documents used by the Diplomatic Corp and sorted out legal matters for Baron Arald. Kitchenmaster Chubb was also present, ladle in hand. Will tried not to look directly in his eyes; he was sure Chubb still remembered cracking Will over the head two years ago.

"Will, is there any other Craft you were considering?" Baron Arald asked. His brown eyes were empathetic and warm. The baron was the tallest person in the room, with Lady Pauline a half-head shorter. Like Sir Rodney, Arald proudly wore scars on his tanned arms from battles past. An accomplished Earthbender and experienced military commander like Arald fought alongside his soldiers, not behind them. In the years since the Battle of Araluen Island, Arald's expanding waistline reflected the effect of Chubb's cooking, but no one in the castle doubted Arald's fighting ability or his commitment to protecting his home.

Will blinked quickly to hold back the tears he felt forming. Sir Rodney had dismissed his request to join the Battleschool. He was "too small." Will didn't have to look at Horace to know the boy was smiling.

"D-diplomatic Corp?" Will said. He looked to Lady Pauline.

She smiled at him. "Is that what you would want, Will? Subtle negotiations, legal discussions?" She shook her head, not unkindly. "Your skills lie elsewhere, Will."

Will bit his tongue and looked to Nigel, but he didn't bother asking. He couldn't imagine sitting in a dismal little cell, copying letters and fussing over exact vocabulary and syntax. He wasn't even sure what syntax was. His last option was Chubb, who spoke before Will had the chance.

"My kitchen demands dedication and passion," Chubb said. "Tell me, boy, what would you do with a turkey duck pie?"

Will stood like a fish, mouth gaping. "Um, eat it, sir?"

Chubb's ladle twitched in his hand, and Will flinched. He thought he heard Horace snicker.

"No, boy, how would you cook it?"

"I-I guess you'd need to kill a turkey duck?"

"No, my lord," Chubb said to Arald. "This boy won't do."

This boy won't do. This boy won't belong. Will didn't hear what Arald said next. He would spend the rest of his life plowing fields, weeding fields, harvesting fields. He would waste away on a farm while Horace became a mighty warrior and Alyss a master negotiator.

There was movement near the door. Halt the Ranger materialized from the shadows near a tapestry. Will jumped where he stood, Alyss stifled a gasp, and Horace grunted in surprise. Even the Craftmasters flinched with Halt's sudden arrival, though Pauline recovered quickly enough to nod in greeting. Halt wore a cloak made from gray fabric that melded into green with no obvious starting point for either color, and it made his body seem shapeless and hard look at. With his hood up, only his nose and bearded chin were visible.

"My lord, I have information on this boy," Halt said in a deep voice. He strode to Baron Arald, in the process tipping his head up and making brief eye contact with will — Halt's eyes were black as coal and showed no emotion. Halt gave the baron a folded parchment. Standing between Baron Arald and Sir Rodney, Halt was small, barely coming up to Rodney's shoulder, even less on Arald. Yet, he was somehow no less intimidating a figure.

Was Halt a Craftmaster? Will recalled that Halt had had a cloaked apprentice four or five years ago, but Will couldn't remember his name. He stared at the back of the parchment, but it wasn't thin enough to reveal what was written on the other side. What "information" did Halt have? Will had never done anything bad, well, not truly bad.

Baron Arald reviewed the parchment before returning the folded square to Halt. "I'll need to think on this. I'll have an answer for you in the morning."

Halt nodded once, then faded into the shadows behind the baron's desk.

Baron Arald smiled at Will, Alyss, and Horace. "I think we're done for today, then. Congratulations on your new apprenticeships. Take the rest of the afternoon off, and report to your new Craftmasters tomorrow, an hour past sunrise. Will," he met the boy's gaze, "come to my office at the same time, once I've had time to think on Halt's information."

"Thank you, my lord," Alyss and Horace said, and Will reluctantly joined in. He imagined what sort of horrible things Halt had written. Did he think Will a criminal, a vagrant, a — Will struggled to think it — traitor who gave secrets to the Fire Nation?

The rest of the day, Will thought about what he had to do. While Alyss and Horace enjoyed the day and the evening, when Jenny was able to meet them with fresh baked meat pies from the castle kitchens, Will decided that he had to read what Halt had shared with the baron, and he had to find out before tomorrow. If Will had to wait until the morning, he wouldn't stay sane.

Halt had left the baron's office with the parchment, so Will would go to Halt's cabin in the woods tonight, and he would read the page for himself.

**Notes**

Thanks to **AreiaCannaid** and **RAPJ** for the first reviews and to **ElizabethCarter21** for the follow! I have big plans for this story, and I'm glad your along for the ride!


	3. Chapter 3

Will hid in the shadows of Redmont Castle's outer wall, waiting for the guards to start their irregular patrol. Three guards watched the cleared field between Will and the forest's edge. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jacket and checked that he couldn't pull his hood further over his head.

After eating half of Jenny's meat pie for dinner, Will had left his wardmates under the excuse of going to bed early. Will had escaped through his window once Horace and Alyss were long asleep. Getting over the castle walls had been a simple matter of moving with the slow passage of the moonlight and shadow, climbing up a guard post and down the other side. The guards rarely seemed to check the places they thought themselves most secure. Now, he looked over the kilometer of open land between him and the forest; he had never sneaked across such a large, empty space before.

Will wiped his hands again and forced himself to calm down. The guards weren't expecting to see anyone; as long as Will was smart and careful, they wouldn't notice him.

Boots scuffed on stone above. At random points throughout the night, the guards would walk along the wall, mostly as a means to keep themselves awake. They were three hours into their four hour shift, and Will figured they had to be bored. They couldn't be expecting any sort of attack. Redmont Castle hadn't had to defend from invaders in Will's living memory.

"Move, Will," he whispered to himself, but his feet held fast to the earth.

Dappled shadows filtered across the field, and the knee-high grass swayed lazily. He wouldn't have a more perfect time to go than this.

Two of the guards chatted too quietly for Will to understand. One laughed and spat over the wall. Will lunged aside to avoid spittle landing on his shoulder, and once one foot was in front of the other, he didn't stop.

He crouched and stepped into the open field. He followed the drifting motion of grass and slowly zig-zagged to follow the dark spots where clouds covered the moon. The guards were out of earshot, but Will kept his breathing silent. He waited for the shout of alarm, but it didn't come in the first hundred yards, nor in the second. Still, Will maintained the hunched sort of walk he'd started with. Even when he reached the tree line, he moved between shadows and trees. Only when he was fifty yards into the forest, and Redmont Castle was a dark smudge on the hill, did he stop.

He found a stick and sketched out his current bearings. Last night when he'd seen smoke from Halt's home, it had been southwest of the castle, about half a kilometer past the Tarbus River. With the little light Will had, he couldn't clearly see his map, but the act of drawing it made his goal's location more clear in his mind.

Distant sounds echoed through the forest as he walked: branches scratched like sandpaper against each other; an owl hooted, answered by another; a twig cracked to Will's right, and a dark shape bolted. Will stopped and held his breath. It was a fox antelope, he told himself. But it had run from something. He continued on, but every leaf he crunched or rock he kicked stopped his progress an extra half-minute. He whipped his head around, expecting to find a platypus bear or a Firebender leap from the darkness. His nerves were taut as a bowstring.

He heard the Tarbus River before he reached it. The sound of bubbling water provided a measure of relief. The river was low this time of year, and he found an easy path across sandbanks and rocks. For several minutes, the rushing of the river hid the sound of his clumsy feet, but soon he was alone in the forest again.

Then he smelled smoke. He sniffed the air - wood smoke. The wind came from the west. This was smoke from Halt's home, Will was sure of it. The only other option was Wensley Village, and it was downwind of him. Will's confidence grew. He would find the letter Halt had given the Baron, and he would know his future.

Halt's home was in a glade among the trees. It was a dark, little cabin with an empty paddock in the back. Several puffs of smoke eased from the chimney before it went quiet. Will grinned. Halt's fire was out for the night; he had to be asleep. Will couldn't have planned his timing more perfectly.

Will sneaked through the glade, following the shadows just as he had in the field. He pressed himself against the cabin wall. He peeked in a window and saw a table and woodstove, fireplace and lumpy armchair. Moonlight reflected off a tri-folded paper on the table. Will melted away from the window. His heart pounded, and his fingers twitched. Only a few feet more.

With slow, measured steps, Will climbed the porch stairs; one step bowed under his weight, and Will bit his lip and backed off it in favor of the next step. He tested the front door with a sudden fear that he'd need to pick the lock, but the handle turned. Why wouldn't the Ranger lock his door? Will figured that Halt didn't expect people to find his cabin.

Finally, Will was inside. He couldn't help himself and ran to the table. He snatched up the letter and tried to find light from the window.

"Thought you might try something like this."

Will yelped and dropped the letter.

Halt was in the doorway; his cloak made him nothing more than a shadow, and the feathered ends of arrows poked above his shoulder.

"Halt?" Will said hoarsely. How had Halt found him? He was supposed to be asleep! Had Halt known he would do this from the start? How long had he been watching Will? Will felt a crashing mix of embarrassment, shame, and fear. He had trespassed into a Ranger's cabin. Despite their woodsmanlike appearances, Rangers worked directly for the King of Araluen Island. Will might as well have broken into Baron Arald's office, and he might have received a lesser punishment for his crime.

"Do you have anything to say?" Halt asked in a low voice. In a second, he was at Will's side and bent to retrieve the letter, which he stowed under his cloak.

Will dropped his head. He couldn't see past the darkness of Halt's hood, and he imagined those dark pits of Halt's eyes were hot with anger. Or worse - that they were icy with apathy.

"Well, let's see what the Baron thinks about this."

"Please, Halt! Not …" Will swallowed his words. He wouldn't plead. He knew what he'd done. This was no accident. Had he the choice again, Will still would have tried to read the letter. His future was all but sealed; whether that was as a farmer or a prisoner didn't matter. He'd already lost the chance to follow after his father.

"What?" Halt asked.

Will breathed deeply to stabilize himself. "Nothing," he said.

"My lord?" Halt asked to the darkness of the cabin.

The lumpy armchair seemed to lurch forward, and the fireplace glowed with hot coals that leapt into flames. Baron Arald sat back in the armchair and yawned, but the red light on his face made him look like a demon ready to breathe fire. The scar on his arm from a Fire Nation spear looked like a knotted canyon.

"Oh…" Will moaned quietly.

Halt glanced at him. His eyes were still hidden. His mouth was in a firm line. "Move, boy."

Will would have accepted spit on his shoulder in exchange for staying right where he was. He'd never seen the Baron so intimidating.

"Will you make the Baron come to you?" Halt asked too quietly for the Baron to hear.

"N-no," Will whispered. He forced one foot forward, then the other.

The Baron had his elbows on his knees, his fingers laced together. He seemed to expect Will to start the conversation.

"G-good evening, my lord," Will said. "Or-or maybe it's good morning."

Baron Arald's mouth quirked up. He looked to Halt. "So you were right."

"Just as I said, my lord. Made it over the castle wall without the sentries noticing. Moved across the green with the shadows, and found my cabin with ease. Managed to avoid the loose porch stair, too. He found his quarry as easily as you do during a hunt. More easily, in fact."

The Baron frowned. Even Will had heard the stories of the Baron's most recent hunting trips where he'd returned empty-handed while Sir Rodney and his other retainers had filled the castle's storehouses.

"Well now," the Baron looked to Will, and any lightheartedness was gone from his face. The growing fire deepened the frown lines around his mouth. "This is a serious matter. What shall we do with you, young Will?"

Will couldn't find his voice. He wished Halt hadn't antagonized the Baron with the comment about hunts. It was as if Halt wanted Will punished to the full extent of the law.

The Baron paced in front of the fire. "Tell me, young Will, what would you do in my place? What would you do with a boy who broke into a King's Ranger's cabin in the middle of the night and tried to steal an important document?"

"I wasn't stealing, my lord!" Will's face went hot with his outburst. He had never planned on stealing anything; it was the only truth he could cleave to. "I just … wanted to see it, that's all."

"Perhaps so," the Baron said. He stood still in front of the fire, and red light wreathed his broad body. "But you haven't answered my question. What would you do in my place?"

Will hated this drawn out game. He didn't understand why the Baron acted as if Will had any say about what was to happen. Will's stomach was in knots. Baron Arald needed an answer, though. He was a good man — the reason Will had had a home the past fifteen years, an education, friends, and no knowledge of true hunger.

"My lord," Will said and tried to keep his voice level and not anxious, "I don't know what I'd do in your place. I do know there is no excuse for my actions, and I will accept whatever punishment you decide."

He looked to the Baron's face, but it was disconcerting to see only sharp shadows. Will did catch with small move of the Baron's head, indicating he was looking at Halt.

"Any suggestions, Halt?" the Baron asked. He eased back into the armchair and drank from a teacup.

"Perhaps we should show him the paper he was so keen to see, my lord," Halt said. He pulled the tri-folded letter from inside his cloak.

"Not a bad idea," the Baron said. "It does spell out his punishment, doesn't it?"

Will felt ready to vomit. What crime did Halt think Will had committed before this? Or had Halt devised this whole scenario to trap Will, thereby making his punishment necessary?

Halt sniffed. "If you say so, my lord."

"Take a joke, Halt. Take a joke!" The Baron moved to the edge of his chair, and he made a rolling gesture with his hand. "Well, go on and show him the paper."

Will didn't understand who this Baron was, so eager to see Will read his punishment. Still, Will took the letter as soon as Halt held it out for him. Trembling, Will knelt beside the fire and unfolded the paper.

_The boy Will has the potential to be trained as a Ranger. _

_I will accept him as my apprentice. _

Will's eyes grew dry staring at the page. He wouldn't be sent to the farms! When he could tear away from the words, he grinned at the Baron, but his smile died when he looked at Halt's dark figure. What did a Ranger's apprenticeship mean? What did apprenticeship to Halt mean? Will had interacted more with Halt today than he had in the past fifteen years, and his instincts warned him that Halt was a dangerous man. Baron Arald was dangerous, too, but he was also the man who'd danced with every person who'd asked at the New Year's festival and made sure everyone there — no matter noble or peasant or castle ward — felt like they were wanted. Will had never even seen Halt at a festival.

"Well?" the Baron leaned toward him expectantly. He had noticed Will's sudden change of expression.

"Um … thank you, my lord. And thank you, Halt," Will added quickly. Halt nodded once at him and remained silent. Will looked to the Baron, who seemed to want Will to say more. "I, um, didn't know you were looking for an apprentice."

"I am," Halt said.

"And that could be you," the Baron said.

"Yea …" Will's word came out as a sigh.

Baron Arald said to Halt, "Would you mind giving us a moment, Halt?"

Halt nodded and stepped into the night.

"Is something wrong, Will?" the Baron asked. "I thought you would be excited. Apprenticeship to a Ranger is a rare honor, and Halt is one of the very best. There are only twenty Rangers in all of Araluen Island; if you joined, you would be part of one of the most elite forces in the world."

"That does sound like an honor," Will said, not sounding as if he thought it was an honor at all.

"Tell me your concern, Will."

Will looked to the door. "It's just … are all Rangers like him?"

"They all have the same skills," the Baron said. "How much do you know of the Rangers?"

"Not much, my lord," Will said.

"King Duncan's grandfather, King Basil, created the Rangers almost sixty years ago. He was a shrewd man, and he saw what the Fire Nation was planning, before even many in the Fire Nation knew what would happen. Have you heard of the Yu Yan Archers?"

Will shook his head.

"They're master archers, and the Fire Nation uses them as assassins. King Basil feared the destabilization of Araluen Island, if the Yu Yan were to target him or any of the Barons or Baronesses. So, he created the Rangers."

"Are Rangers assassins?" Will could easily imagine Halt sneaking through the night, intent on killing someone of importance.

"No," the Baron said. "They can shoot just as good as the Yu Yan; some would say our Rangers shoot better. No, the purpose of the Rangers is to stop assassins, infiltrators, spies, and any others from trying to swipe Araluen Island away from us. We have our Earthbenders and soldiers to stop armies, but the Rangers exist to stop the ones who slip past our notice. Think of the Rangers as the finest sieve you can imagine. Halt's job — what could be your job — is to find the grain of sand trying to work its way under Araluen Island's foot, and stop it before it can do any damage."

"That sounds serious," Will said. He felt overwhelmed thinking of the responsibility on Halt's shoulders. "No wonder he's so grim."

The Baron nodded. "Halt can be a … difficult man to get to know, but I've been working with him these past fifteen years, and I would call him my friend. There's no better person to learn from." He tapped the note, written in Halt's handwriting. "These words aren't here to make you feel better. Halt means what he says. You have potential, Will, and I'd hate to see you squander it because of a little fear."

The door burst open, and Halt was inside. "My lord, you're needed. Firebenders at the shore."

The little cabin was a flurry of movement, and Will struggled to understand the full scope of what was happening. Baron Arald swiped the papers on the table beside him into a box, then he was at the door. Sir Rodney walked into the cabin, and he wore his battle greens and a broad helm, and he gave a similar one to the Baron.

"They appear to be scouts," Sir Rodney said. "Too many for the patrol to deal with, so they sent a messenger to fetch us."

"Where?" Baron Arald asked.

"The eastern inlet, near Gorlan village."

"Why would they go there?" the Baron seemed to growl the question. "How many are we dealing with?"

"About twenty," Sir Rodney said. "At least two Firebenders, maybe more. My patrol is doing their best to keep them from the village. I have ten Earthbenders and twice that in ground troops saddled, as well as with two Waterbenders."

"Very good," the Baron said. "Halt? I expect we'll see you there?"

"Yes, my lord," Halt said.

Sir Rodney and the Baron left, and Will heard the scuffling sounds of ostrich horse feet clawing at the ground.

"Have you made up your mind, boy?" Halt said to Will.

Will realized he was still crouched by the fire. He stood, his heart hammering from the excitement of Sir Rodney's arrival and fear from being alone with Halt. "I …" he glanced at Halt's short message to the Baron. "What happens if I become your apprentice?"

"We stop wasting time talking and ride to the shore to support the Baron and Sir Rodney. And if you say no, you go back to the castle and plant radishes for the rest of your life." Halt pushed back his hood. His black hair, shot through with silver, was cut into blunt, uneven edges, and his beard and mustache, now that Will saw it fully, had the same slapdash quality. Flickering shadows made his stern face all the more intimidating. Could Will truly be apprentice to such a man?

"What's your answer, boy?"

Will already felt terrified of what he might see in following the Baron and Sir Rodney to the shore. He'd never seen a Firebender before. What if he didn't live until morning? But — and this was the true question, Will realized — could he ever commit to the quiet life of a farmer, where each day was a repeat of the last, his future hinged on rain and pests and the price of wheat?

Will nodded. "Yes." His voice was stronger than he'd thought it would be. He said again, "Yes, I'll be your apprentice."

Halt nodded once. He pulled a color-shifting cloak like the one he wore from near the fireplace and tossed it at Will. "Put that on, and follow my orders." Halt pulled his hood up and left the cabin without looking back.

Will fumbled to pull on the cloak and close it with the simple clasp on the front. He didn't know what to do with Halt's letter, so he dropped it on the armchair. As he closed the cabin door, Halt rode to the front porch on what looked like an ostrich horse, but it was small and puffy, like its pin feathers had never fallen out. Will climbed up behind his new master.

"Abelard," Halt said, and the ostrich horse shot from a stand still to a full run. Will yelped and grabbed Halt's quiver to stay upright. They left the dark cabin behind them.

* * *

**Notes**:

* Singular uses of "Ranger" and "Baron" have been updated to be capitalized. Keeping them lower case or capitalized was an "Oxford comma" type situation to me, but I noticed that John Flanagan wrote "Ranger" capped, so I decided to adopt the same pattern.

* Most of the dialogue from the cabin scene is the same as the scene in Baron Arald's from Ruins of Gorlan. That scene is the catalyst for the entire series, and I wanted to maintain as much faithfulness as possible, even if the actual scenario and location had changed somewhat.

Thanks to **RAPJ**, **AreiaCannaid**, and **Ranger River** for reviews!


	4. Chapter 4

Within five minutes of leaving's Halt's cabin, Will knew something was wrong. More wrong than the Fire Nation attacking Araluen Island, but he couldn't immediately pin down the problem. Most of his attention was fixed on how to best keep his seat on the back of Abelard's saddle — Will's legs were growing tired from clutching at Abelard's feathery sides, and he was sure Halt would snap at him for tugging on his quiver — but something about this situation did not feel right. Then, he realized what it was: Abelard was running south, but Gorlan Village was north.

He felt a quick terror and wondered if Halt knew north from south. Or was he deliberately betraying the Baron, leaving him to die in time of need? Did that mean Halt was a Fire Nation spy?

Will shoved that thought from his mind. The Baron trusted Halt, and Will trusted the Baron. Besides, even if Halt never joined the Baron and Sir Rodney tonight, the two men by themselves were skilled enough to repel a small army.

"Halt?" Will's voice quavered with Abelard's loping gait. He'd never ridden an ostrich horse before.

Halt didn't respond.

"Halt?"

Still nothing.

"Halt!"

"I'm right here, boy? Are you telling me to stop, or do you have a question?"

Will nearly kept his mouth shut right there. He didn't want to upset Halt, but he needed to know what was happening. "We aren't going to Gorlan Village?"

"Correct," Halt said.

Will waited for the rest of the reply, but Halt had none. His new master had technically answered Will's question, just not to Will's satisfaction. He pushed past his discomfort to ask, "Then where are going?"

Over the rush of the night air and the crunch of Abelard's steps on grass and deadfall leaves, Halt said, "This is your first lesson, boy. Rangers aren't soldiers. We don't follow orders blindly. We think about them, and, if need be, disregard them. In this case, we're doing the latter."

"But why?"

"Think about it: What do Firebenders have to gain from attacking Gorlan Village?"

Not much that Will could see. Gorlan Village existed in the shadow of the ruins of Gorlan Castle, the former holding of Morgarath the Betrayer. After Morgarath had truly aligned himself with the Fire Nation, he'd lost most of his supporters on Araluen Island. Once his attempt to steal Araluen Island for himself had failed, Morgarath's former subjects — aided by many of those who had suffered from the Betrayer's actions — had torn Gorlan Castle apart to nothing but loose bricks and foundation. The ruins had been picked over the past fifteen years for stone, metal work, and perceived riches, and Will didn't know what more someone could find from them. The nearby village had dwindled to a fraction of its previous inhabitants. The most important thing about it now was that it was the nearest coastal village to Redmont Castle.

"I don't know," Will said. "There isn't any tactical value."

"There's one value," Halt said. "The Fire Nation does nothing unless it's for gain. What is the gain?"

"Fear?" Will asked, but he wasn't confident in his answer.

"Think harder, boy."

Will considered what the Fire Nation wanted in general: control of Araluen Island. The fastest way to do that was to take over the capital, based at Araluen Castle … which was almost due south of Gorlan Village. But why would the Fire Nation attack to the north? The answer hit him with chill clarity.

"A distraction?"

Halt glanced back at him. "Are you asking me or telling me?"

"A distraction."

"Correct."

Abelard plunged out of the forest and onto a broad plain that ran into Oswald's Inlet. To the north, the inlet opened to the wider sea, and to the south was the Araluen River delta. Farther up the Araluen River was Araluen Castle, the seat of power for the entire island. Will expected to see little by way of water traffic at this time of night, possibly a few nigh fishermen or traders willing to risk running aground to meet their deadlines. He noticed a metallic gleam in the river, a shape too hard and jagged to be a wooden boat. A thick plume of black smoke formed a lazy cyclone stretching to the clouds. Will had never seen a Fire Navy ship before, and it looked like an inexorable monster, with no need for rowers or sails to move against the current and the wind.

Halt clicked his tongue, and Abelard shot into a flat run. Will couldn't hear anything beyond the wind, and he had to channel his focus into remaining in the saddle. Abelard ran in a diagonal to Oswald's Inlet, the destination somewhere near the river delta. The ostrich horse soon outpaced the Fire Navy vessel. Will saw it was a small ship, and he guessed it might hold less than thirty people. As he and Halt drew closer to the inlet, Will expected fireballs to streak toward them. He struggled to judge the distance between himself and the ship in the darkness, and that made him think he was closer to danger than was the reality.

Ahead, Will saw moonlight glinting off the Araluen River, which first snaked north from the inlet, then would curve back south toward Araluen Castle. Halt pointed toward the river delta and shouted something, but Will couldn't understand the words. Will squinted, trying to make out what it was that Halt was trying to show him. There was some sort of structure by the river. It was a guardhouse, Will realized, as they came closer to it.

Abruptly, Halt reigned in Abelard. Will wasn't prepared, and he lost his grip on Halt's quiver, and his inertia sent him rolling to the ground. Halt dismounted in a quick motion, and he pulled something from Abelard's saddle.

"Here, boy," Halt said.

Will jumped to his feet and accepted a heavy leather belt from Halt. There were two knife scabbards looped on the belt, both currently occupied.

"Put it on," Halt ordered.

Will did so, and the belt felt awkward, like he was trying to wear boots too big for his feet.

Halt pulled a knife from his own belt scabbard and motioned for Will to draw his corresponding knife. It was as long as his forearm, the hilt wrapped simply with leather.

"This is a saxe," Halt said. "Short for 'sea ax,' and a modified version of the whalebone varieties used by the Water Tribe. One edge is cutting, the other blunt. The other knifenis for throwing. You're not ready for that, so don't touch it."

Will sheathed his saxe. He wanted to examine the other, smaller knife, but Halt was already talking again.

"Go to the guardhouse. Tell them to raise the wall."

"The wall?"

"The kingdom doesn't have time for your questions, boy. Go!"

Will ran toward the guardhouse, but he stopped and looked back to Halt. "What are you going to do?"

Halt pulled a long piece of wood from Abelard's scabbard. He bent the wood with some effort and looped a string around the end, and Will realized it was a massive longbow. "Go!"

As Will ran to the guardhouse, Halt ran toward the river, and Will lost sight of him.

"Fire Nation!" Will shouted at the guard house. "Fire Nation!"

A door opened, throwing a shaft of yellow light into the dark.

"Who goes there!" A woman shouted from inside the guardhouse. Another voice inside said, "Fire Nation?"

The ground under Will turned to sand, and he dropped up to his elbows in it before the earth turned solid once more, trapping him.

"Not me!" he said. "Fire Nation on the water! They're coming toward the river!"

Two guards emerged, backlit from their station. They both wore leather armor, the man's blue and green, and the woman's green and white. Both had the the King's insignia — a lion rampant on green — embroidered near their heart. The woman held her arms outstretched and approached Will cautiously. The man eased into a basic Waterbending form, pulling a coil of water from a pouch on his back.

"Fire Nation on the river?" the man asked. "Where exactly?"

"Just there!" Will couldn't point to the ship, so he jerked his chin in that direction. With horror, he realized he couldn't see the ship any longer. Moonlight had dwindled to a haze, and the ship was in front of dark land now, so it faded into the night. He searched for the plumes of smokes that were darker than the sky and saw that they were gone, too. Was the ship still there? Of course it was; the Fire Nation hadn't staged an attack to the north and sent a ship into Oswald's Inlet just to turn around at the last minute. They had to be close to the delta by now. If he waited much longer, the ship would sneak past the guards.

The woman shook her head. Her hair was short, and her face cut like a block of stone. "If Fire Nation were headed this way, Redmont would have sent a rider."

"That's me!" Will said.

"They don't send children," the man said.

"I came with Halt. He said that the wall needs to go up. Now!"

The guards looked at each other. The woman asked, "Halt the Ranger?"

"Yes. Yes. The wall needs to go up!"

"Well, where is he?"

Will would have stamped his foot if he could have moved it. "Down by the river, trying to slow the ship down. Please, put the wall up!"

"What could it hurt?" the man asked his fellow guard.

"It could be a distraction," said the woman, and Will gaped at her in disbelief, "for a land invasion."

At that moment, a tiny spark shot through the dark and seemed to land in the river. Then, a fire bloomed ten feet high, right on the deck of the Fire Navy ship. The vessel was close to the river mouth; thirty seconds more, and it would be through.

"The wall!" the guards shouted together and ran to edge of the water. Will remained stuck in the earth, struggling to free himself and hating that he wasn't an Earthbender.

A bell rang out from the guardhouse, echoed by three more along the delta. The ground rumbled; Will felt it in his legs and stomach, and it reverberated up to his head. In the river, water sloshed and broke in huge waves, then rose in the air as gleaming ice. Will watched in wonder as a wall formed by earth and ice rose like magic across the delta. There were guardhouses on some of the larger deposits of silt, and huge stone pylons driven into the spare slivers of land anchored the defensive structure. As more water formed to ice, the water level dropped to reveal more land.

The Fire Navy sailors had put out the fire on their deck, but another sprang up at the stern of the ship, then another on the deck again. Will pinpointed the source of the fires: it was Halt, shooting flaming arrows from the river bank. He still couldn't see Halt himself, but he did see the next arrow Halt sent out. This one went nearly straight up, a faint little glimmer of light flying almost too fast to notice. The arrow flew in a tight, parabolic arc, driving back toward the ship and going straight down the smokestack.

Fire roared out of the smokestack, as if it were a dragon. The ship seemed to scream, metal wrenching against metal. Will winced with the sound, and he couldn't imagine how awful it must have been to the people onboard. There were a series of low booming sounds that made Will's legs tremble, and the ship slowed, then stopped, then started drifting backward with the current.

Will grinned. Halt had done it; he'd managed to single-handedly stop the ship, thereby stopping the threat to the king and Araluen Island. He felt relief for the first time since leaving Halt's cabin. Soon after, a dark figure ran toward him. Will saw the thin line of a longbow, and the waving hem of a Ranger cloak. Stuck in the ground, Will lost his grin and struggled again to escape his prison.

"What are you doing, boy?" Halt asked.

"Um … I got them to raise the wall."

Halt glanced at the river, then to the guard house. "Get yourself free." And he walked away.

"What? Halt! Where are you going?"

"There could be three dozen Fire Nation soldiers on that ship. They can't be allowed to escape." Halt left earshot and walked through open door of the guard house.

How did he expect Will to escape the ground on his own? That was impossible. He thought Halt might send one of the Earthbenders to his aid, but as the minutes passed, Will's hope for that possibility vanished.

His legs were starting to fall asleep when Halt emerged from the guardhouse, flanked by ten guards. Will's cheeks went hot with embarrassment as he noticed they were all coming in his direction. He hadn't even been a Ranger's apprentice for six hours, and he would already have a buffoonish reputation. His first mission, and he got trapped in the ground because he couldn't deliver a message well. He didn't want to fail the second task that Halt had given to him, impossible as it seemed. He still had time, he realized; he just had to act before Halt did.

"Hello there!" Will called out and tried to squelch the discomfort in his voice. "Could one of you free me? I - uh - fell into a crack."

The woman who had first put him into the ground broke from the group. She dropped into a deep stance and worked her arm as if moving a heavy leaver. Instantly, the ground became sand again, and it spat Will out. He landed on his stomach, sore but free. Will scrambled up, wiping dirt from his clothes and hurrying to Halt's side. He gave the woman his thanks, but her attention was on Halt.

Halt indicated the still-drifting boat in the water. It was aflame, and likely visible for miles. "Once they're detained, bring them to Redmont for holding and judgment. I'll send a section of soldiers to support you."

"Thank you, Ranger," the apparent leader of the guards said. He was a sturdy man, broad-shouldered, missing one arm, and wearing greens. "We appreciate your help and," he nodded at Will, "your warning." The guards hurried toward the water's edge. Will noticed there were several small boats tied along the banks.

Once Will was alone with Halt, his new master regarded him impassively. He nodded once. "Don't get used to all this excitement, boy. Tomorrow, it will be scrubbing pots, hauling in firewood, and filling the water barrel."

Will couldn't help but grin. "It beats planting radishes."

Notes:

Thanks for **RAPJ** and **AreiaCannaid** for reviews!


	5. Chapter 5

Halt hadn't lied about the effort involved with being a Ranger's apprentice, and after a few days of the workload, Will wondered if life as a farmer wouldn't be so terrible. Everyday was chores sunup to sundown. He was surprised by how much work a small cabin, outhouse, and stable required of him. Water from the creek had to be hauled to the barrel holding the cabin's daily water supply. The floor and porch needed sweeping and the rug beating. Will wiped down windows, cleaned grease from the cookstove, and emptied ashes from the fireplace. He mucked the stables, hauled in hay, and fed and watered Abelard daily. There were always more chores, but Halt never seemed to remember them until Will thought had was done for the day. If Will hadn't already had his first taste of Ranger work, he would have thought Halt had taken him in only as a live-in servant.

After returning from the excitement the first night of being a Ranger's apprentice, Will had slept most of the next morning. When he'd woken, he hadn't known where he was. The room was spartan, with a wood-framed bed, small bedside table, and a simple standing closet. Will's only belongings in the room had been his boots, covered in dirt and dropped by the door. When he'd left the little room, he saw his new home in daylight for the first time. Halt had been at the stove, stoking the fire beneath the cooktop, and he had a pot of something dark set to boil.

"What is that?" Will asked.

"Coffee," Halt said.

Will breathed in rich-smelling drink. "It doesn't smell like any coffee I've had before." Those tastes he'd had were of a thick, bitter drink with a bad aftertaste.

"You haven't had my coffee," Halt told him. He poured two cups, and Will reached for his, but Halt stopped him with an outstretched arm. There was a small pot of honey on the counter, and Halt spooned a liberal amount in each cup. "Now, drink."

Will did, and he didn't want to spit it back out. He still tasted the bitterness, but it mixed in a strangely appealing way with the honey. "It's better," he said.

"Of course it is." Halt quickly finished his first cup and poured a second.

Will hadn't had the appetite for more than his one cup that morning. By the third day, he welcomed a second helping.

As the days went on, Will found that his chores were getting easier. In part, it was because he knew what was expected of him. Halt rarely "discovered" new work that needed completing, and Will had a running list of daily tasks stored in his mind. It took Will several days to notice, but his body was growing more conditioned to the labor. Hauling endless buckets of water from the nearby creek didn't leave him breathless, and chopping wood still left him sore, but not as sore as that first day. Life as a ward hadn't been devoid of manual labor, but it hadn't comprised so much of his day to day life.

A week from the day he had crept in to the cabin to read Halt's acceptance letter, Will ended his chores in the early afternoon. He still had work lined up the rest of the day — cooking supper, for instance — but he had a free few hours to relax. Time felt so odd to him. It couldn't have possibly been only seven days since Halt had accepted him as an apprentice; too much had happened since then to be compressed in such a small amount of time. Yet, he felt like just the previous morning he had woken up in his bed at the ward, nervous about the Choosing. He struggled to imagine living at the ward again. He'd visited his old home once, to gather up his clothes and few belongings. Both Alyss and Horace were already moved out, and the rooms in the castle had felt so empty, quiet, and small.

Will stretched his arms, feeling the effect of carrying in that day's water supply. He had rigged up a lid for the water bucket so as not to spill so much and a leather shoulder strap made from a discarded saddle girth. The strap removed much of the strain of carrying the water from his arms, instead distributing it across more of his body. Even still, hauling in nearly forty buckets of water two-hundred and twelve steps from the creek would make anyone sore.

Halt's cabin was a beautiful little place. This time of day, light filtered through the trees and dappled the mossy roof. Grass and multicolored wildflowers grew in the spaces where the forest canopy broke, and squirrel toads skittered through the trees all time of day, and Will often heard their croaking through the night. The air was clean out here and quiet, just the rustle of branches and chirps of birds.

"Quit lazing about, boy," Halt said, startling Will from his thoughts. Halt had been in the small stable, and he hopped the paddock fence. He had a rolled up bundle held beneath one arm.

"I finished my chores," Will said and tried not to feel guilty about completing his work early. Did that mean he hadn't done it correctly? Will thought he had done everything up to Halt's standards, but he wouldn't bet the rest of his afternoon that all of his work would be perfect under inspection.

"You have, have you?" Halt asked. He studied Will, who started squirming under his dark gaze. "Well, then, I suppose you're ready for more work."

Will's shoulders drooped. What more could be done around the cabin that he hadn't already seen to? Maybe Halt wanted the roof re-thatched.

"Follow me, boy." Halt led him to a smooth stump in the forest clearing and set down his rolled bundle. "Do you have your knife belt?"

Will glanced down at his waist, though he knew he wasn't wearing the belt. "In my room," he said.

"Go get it."

Pulse racing in excitement, Will ran into the cabin and retrieved the knife belt Halt had given him. Over the past few days, Will had examined both of the knives in it and even tested their sharpness on dried leather and vegetables, but he didn't even know if he was holding them correctly.

"Put on the belt," Halt said when Will returned. "From now on, wear it always. You're a Ranger now. Apprentice or not, that makes you dangerous in the eyes of our enemies."

"But Baron Arald and Sir Rodney caught all of the Fire Nation soldiers who attacked Gorlan Village," Will said. "And those ones in the inlet were all captured, too."

"And you think that's all the Fire Nation will send, boy?" Halt's tone was steady and terrifying. "We're in a war, and Araluen Island is free. Morgarath and the Fire Nation will do everything in their power to see that change."

Will finished buckling the knife belt. It didn't feel as heavy today as it had a week ago. "So Morgarath really was behind those attacks?" Saying Morgarath's name aloud made Will shift uncomfortably.

Halt shrugged. "Most likely, though the Fire Nation men and women we caught either don't know or won't tell us. And keep in mind, boy, that wasn't an attack."

"But—"

"It was a scouting mission. There's been several the past week, none as large as the one here. Morgarath has something big planned; he's testing our defenses."

Will didn't know what to say to that. Everyone on Araluen Island knew that Morgarath would make another play for it. But fifteen years of quiet had made Will think whatever Morgarath had in mind had already failed or would be saved for the distant future.

"Don't concern yourself with that now," Halt said. "Your concern is your weapons. You already know what the saxe is. Take out the other one."

Will pulled the smaller knife from his double scabbard. It was just as plain as the saxe; the blade was shaped like a smooth leaf, bulging out on the sides then coming back to a point at the top.

"It's weighted for throwing." Halt pulled out his throwing knife, brought it behind his head, stepped forward, and threw the knife in a single, smooth motion. The knife was a blur, then a solid thud in a tree ten yards away, buried deep into the bark. "Depending on how it's thrown, you can hit someone with the blade or with the handle, if you only want to stun them." He brought out his saxe. "This one is also balanced for throwing. Hitting with the handle can knock out a man or even kill him, if landed properly." With the same motion as before, Halt threw the saxe knife. It hit a tree, hilt first, and a dozen red apples all dropped to the ground.

Will tried his hand at throwing each knife. He did manage to hit a tree with his saxe, but the angle was all wrong, and the saxe knicked the bark before dropping to the dirt. His throwing knife slipped in his fingers as he released it, and it spun in a torrent of metal and glinting sunlight somewhere into a pile of detritus.

"Keep in mind," Halt said, "that you only get one of each."

Will stepped to fetch his weapons, but Halt stopped him.

"Retrieve them later. Think of it as a memory challenge," Halt said without a hint of humor. He knelt by the bundle on the stump and unrolled it. Inside, there was a recurve bow, several arrows, and a leather cuff.

"I thought Rangers used longbows," Will said.

Halt considered him a moment, then jogged into the cabin. He returned with his longbow and several yard-long arrows.

"Have you shot a bow before, boy?" Halt asked.

Will nodded. "Not as nice a bow as this one, but yes." When Halt held out the weapon, he accepted it. The bow was heavier than Will had realized, taller, too. It was taller than Halt was, and it dwarfed Will.

"Shoot the knot on that tree." Halt pointed out a knot about the size of his fist on a tree twenty yards away. It was close range for a bow like this, and Will had been able to make shots like it with the makeshift bows he'd used in the past.

Will fitted the nock of the arrow to the bowstring, lifted the bow, and pulled the string. Or, he tried to. No matter how he strained, he couldn't pull the bow anywhere near full — or even half — draw. His arms quickly tired, and he accidentally released the string. The arrow plopped to the grass two feet past the stump.

"This is impossible to draw," Will said.

Halt grabbed his arrow and took the longbow from Will. In one, smooth motion, he nocked, pulled the string as easy as drawing a knife, and released. The arrow embedded deep into the center of the knot.

"Not impossible, boy. Just difficult for you right now." He knelt again by the stump and picked up the recurve bow. "This is similar to what the Yu Yan Archers use."

Will stiffened. "They're Fire Nation."

"And they're some of the best in the world. You'd be a fool to ignore a useful tool, boy, just because someone you don't like uses it."

Nodding, Will took the recurve bow. It was significantly shorter than the longbow, and the limbs curled back toward him before turning out at the ends like a ram's horns.

Halt pointed at the limbs. "This shape increases the power you put into the draw. It won't shoot as far or as powerfully as a longbow, but you don't need that right now."

Will tested the bowstring, and it pulled more easily than Halt's bow. He nocked one of the shorter arrows to the string and drew the bow. He couldn't bring it to full draw, and his arm muscles trembled. With a snap, he released the string, and the arrow missed the knotted tree by a whisper. The string slapped the tender skin on the inside of Will's arm, and he yelped and dropped the bow.

Halt sniffed. "Your powers of observation could use more practice." He held out the leather cuff, and Will realized Halt wore a similar cuff that would protect the inside of his arm. He gestured to the wayward arrow and in the direction of Will's thrown knives. "Get them. Your form needs practice."

Will did as he said, bounding through the edge of the forest to complete the task as quickly as possible. The rest of the afternoon, Halt walked him through the proper form for archery and knife throwing. The key to a powerful draw of the bow was to use not just his hand and arm, Will learned, but his shoulder and back. Halt taught him to plant himself like an Earthbender and use power from his whole body to pull the bowstring; at the end of their training session, Will was hitting the knotted tree more often than not.

By the time they broke training so Will could start preparing their evening meal, he was physically tired but mentally energized. He could draw a bow and throw a knife. The knife belt around his waist felt more natural, and he liked the weight of it; he felt dangerous and important. He felt like a Ranger. 

* * *

For his part, Horace did not feel like a Battleschool student; if anything, he felt like an overworked ant. He, along with the other new recruits to the Redmont Battleschool, were in the training yard. It was a vast expanse of dirt and rock, completely unshaded from the sun. Sweat rolled down Horace's face and back, even his legs. He and the others were dressed in full battle greens. Horace had always looked on the greens as the mark of a warrior, something that would distinguish him. Now, though, they were just heavy leather and flame-retardant wool in the depth of summer. He'd worn them during the hours of training every day this week; he and the other recruits were allotted only one set, and he hadn't had time to wash them. The smell was just as painful as the lingering ache in his body from constant physical exercises.

Sir Karol moved among the recruits, ten in all that could Earthbend. By winter, that number would drop by nearly half. Each of the recruits was deep in a horse stance, legs spread, arms bent as if preparing for an uppercut punch. They all stared ahead, pretending the blazing sun wasn't near blinding and that their knees weren't ready to give out as they moved into the third hour of their practice.

"Column," Karol barked, "push, break, and absorb!"

Horace reacted to the commands without thinking. He pulled a column of earth from the ground, almost two seconds before those around him were able to. His was taller, and the sides less prone to flaking off with pebbles. He glanced to his right, nodded at the red-faced girl there, then looked to his left and nodded at the shorn-haired boy. As one, the three recruits shoved their columns to the right. The new column stopped in front of him, and Horace let out a battle yell and punched through the solid block of stone. It crumbled to pieces, and Horace bent the earth beneath it to swallow back the smaller rocks, leaving the ground in front of him clear of debris.

Sweat rolled past Horace's eye, and he remained at his ready horse stance. The boy to his left swayed, face red. To Horace's right, the girl struggled to catch her breath.

"Column, absorb, column, absorb!" Sir Karol ordered.

Horace created a column of earth and dropped it back into the ground. He repeated the action; his second column was taller than the first, and he shot it back down even more quickly.

Sir Karol continued his drills, combining column, break, push, and absorb in myriad combinations until the boy to Horace's left dropped to his knees and retched.

"At ease!" Sir Karol called.

Nine of the recruits groaned in pain, most of them falling to the ground and panting. Horace relaxed his stance but remained ready, feet rooted to the earth, eyes staring straight ahead. He didn't notice Sir Rodney, watching the recruits from the back of the training yard, nor Sir Karol's quick appraisal of Horace and his subtle glance back at the Battlemaster.

Only when Sir Karol called an end to the training did Horace allow himself to wince from the pain in his muscles and drop his stance entirely. He was the first of the recruits back to his barracks and the first to claim a spot in the showers. The water was cold, and the shower brief, but after so long spent in the afternoon heat, Horace welcomed the chill.

He was alone when he emerged from the showers, and he realized his mistake when he saw three figures waiting for him near the barracks. Horace tried to turn back, acting as if he forgot something from the shower house.

"Where are you going, Wardboy?" Alda, the leader of the three bullies waiting for him, asked. Alda was a handsome boy, finer-boned than many of the other Earthbenders, and his hair a light shade of brown. He had a scar through one eyebrow that the female recruits seemed to think made him more attractive.

"Nowhere," Horace said. He tugged on his shower bag, filled with his towel and sweaty clothes. "The barracks, I mean."

Alda glanced at the two boys beside him. All three were second-year Battleschool apprentices; all three were Earthbenders. "Wardboy doesn't know where he's going."

The tallest of the three, Jerome, said, "We can show him where he can go." Jerome was also the broadest of the three, heavily muscled and his nose bent like it had been broken.

"Bryn," Alda said to the other boy, "lead the way."

Bryn grinned at Horace. He wasn't as muscled as Jerome, nor as charismatic as Alda, nor even a talented Earthbender. But from Horace's interactions over the past week, Bryn followed orders well.

"Come on, Wardboy," Bryn said.

Horace didn't want to go with them, but Battleschool demanded he obey the chain of command. Certainly second year cadets held rank over him. He followed Bryn, with Alda and Jerome walking behind him. The led him to a secluded part of the Battleschool, where a deep trench had been created through Earthbending. Horace had had one lesson here, where he'd learned the basics of scaling sheer rock.

"We need you to get something for us, Wardboy," Alda said.

"Wha — oof!" Horace doubled over when Jerome punched him in the stomach. He felt someone tug his showerbag from his grip.

Alda swung the bag like a pendulum. He let go, and the bag tumbled through the air and landed seventy feet down below in the mud.

"Oh, and I meant to keep that safe," Alda said with mock concern. He smiled at Horace. "Go get it, Wardboy."

Horace breathed deeply, calling upon his training in meditation to calm his emotions. Then he dropped into an Earthbending stance. He'd never created a column so tall as to bring his shower bag to him.

"What are you doing?" Bryn asked.

"Did he say you could bend?" Jerome kicked the back of Horace's knee, and the boy caught himself with his hands before his face met the dirt.

Alda pointed to the bottom of the trench. "Climb down, Wardboy, then climb back up."

Horace barely had the energy to think about making such a trek, but he was a Battleschool student. He had signed up for this. Reluctantly, he went to the side of the trench and started climbing down.

Close to an hour later, arms shaking, fingertips bloody, and sweat rendering his shower moot, Horace pulled himself back over the lip of the trench. He sprawled on his back in the dirt. Alda, Bryn, and Jerome were gone. Horace knew he'd missed the short window of dinnertime, but he didn't care. He was too miserable to eat. 

* * *

**Notes**:

I think I finally figured out the line thing. That took way too long.

Thanks to **AreiaCannaid** for the review!


	6. Chapter 6

Will nocked an arrow to his bowstring, pulling the feather fletching to the corner of his mouth. He sighted his target, a circle of cloth the size of a teacup, pinned to a tree seventy yards away. He released the string, and the arrow hit the target, albeit not in the exact center. Will grinned. His weeks of practice were showing. No longer did he struggle to draw a bow, and he hit his chosen targets far more often than he missed them. He could bury a knife blade into a hay bale from thirty paces, or stun a hog monkey with a knock from the hilt. The chores that had consumed hours during the early days of his apprenticeship he now completed before noon, leaving him to spend the rest of his day engaged in Ranger training. He shot his remaining five arrows — only one missed the target, and that by less than an inch — before retrieving them all.

With his camouflage cloak, Will blended into the forest. He moved with the shadows and movement of the trees on instinct now, though he hadn't noticed a change in the way he walked. Will still lacked trust in this growing ability of his, so when he heard two sets of ostrich horses walking to Halt's cabin. He caught his breath, spun, and sank into the underbrush to watch whomever was approaching.

Halt was on the front steps, but he hadn't noticed Will; he was turned away, focused on the ostrich horses. Will didn't need a disapproving look from Halt to know what he'd done wrong. He should have remained still, trusting in his Ranger cloak to keep him hidden, even if he felt completely out in the open.

The two ostrich horses that walked into the glade were riderless. One was laden with traveling gear and a longbow similar to Halt's. The smaller of the two creatures had two saddlebags, but carried no other burden. Both resembled Abelard with their smaller than average size and fluffy feathers that looked ready to molt. Ranger mounts, thought Will, but where were the Rangers?

Halt approached the ostrich horses, patting the larger one, which nudged his shoulder in affection.

"This is a pointless game. You're never going to win," Halt said to the trees.

Will felt as though someone was staring at the back of his neck, but he didn't turn his head to search for the source. He strained his hearing for crunching leaves or branches being moved aside, but he heard nothing.

Halt walked around the smaller ostrich horse and said, "Your father must be proud: you're a delivery boy now."

"Don't move, and stay quiet" a voice whispered behind Will, and it took everything Will had not to jump in surprise. He assumed the speaker was the ostrich horse's rider, but he half-expected a fireball in his back.

"Who are you?" Will asked.

A person materialized next to him. One moment, there was open air and thin branches, and the next a young man in a Ranger's cloak was beside him. Will could only see a broad grin beneath the shadow of his cowl. "How about playing a trick on your new master?"

Will watched Halt, who was scanning the trees, presumably for sight of the man now next to Will. "Are you a Ranger?"

"Has Halt never mentioned me? I suppose I am his greatest failure: he never was able to stomp the humor out of me." The Ranger tilted his head, and Will saw green eyes, bright with excitement. "Gilan, Halt's first apprentice."

"I'm Will."

"Good to meet you, Will. Does he know you're out here?"

It was hard not to nod, but Will managed it. "Yes. I was practicing with my bow. I came here to get my arrows."

"Perfect," Gilan said. "You see that little emu pony there?"

"Emu — Ostrich horse, you mean?"

"What has Halt been teaching you?" Gilan asked, sounding offended. "Rangers ride emu ponies. They're faster, tougher, and have better endurance. Anyway, the little one there is yours. His name is Tug."

Will looked at the feathery creature in surprise. "Tug. I get one?"

"Every Ranger has one, even apprentices. Here's where the trick comes in." Gilan spoke in quick, quiet words, explaining the plan to Will. When he finished, he said, "Remember, act like you've never seen me before."

"Got it," Will said.

Gilan winked at him, and he melted into the forest.

Before Will returned to the glade, he ensured that he had all six of his arrows.

"Did you have a good talk with Gilan?" Halt asked.

Will caught himself before saying 'Yes.' He glanced back to the forest, then to the emu ponies. "Who's Gilan? I was getting my arrows."

Halt studied him, and Will kept his expression guileless, or at least hoped he did.

There was a crash from inside the cabin.

Halt sighed heavily and put his hand on the heavy saxe knife at his belt. "Stay behind me, Will."

Will did, realizing his bow and arrows were still in hand. He considered setting them on the porch, but he imagined the possibility that it wasn't Gilan inside the cabin. Leaving his weapons behind would equal death. Thankfully for Will's nerves, it was Gilan. He had climbed through the kitchen window, but tripped on something and knocked over two chairs. Gilan scrambled to his feet, grinning sheepishly at Halt.

"And I thought I'd get you this time," Gilan said.

"What was your plan? Cook my dinner?" Halt asked.

Gilan pulled a small bag from his belt pouch. "Pepper. I was planning to put it in your coffee supply."

Halt snatched the bag from Gilan. He sniffed it and scowled. "Your plans are more idiotic every year."

Righting a chair, Gilan sat in it and stretched out his long legs. His bare feet were coated in dirt, and Will realized he would have to sweep the cabin again. "And your demeanor is more grim every time I see you. Have you finally taken a vow never to smile again?"

The tension in the room made Will's fingers twitch with unease. Had Halt even liked his first apprentice? Could Will expect the same, cold treatment in his future.

Then Halt laughed. It was a strange sound, more like a bark, but Will was sure it was a laugh and that Halt had made it. "You're still so thin, you could slip through a jail cell."

Gilan chuckled and rose to his feet; he was a head taller than Halt. "And I can count your remaining black hairs on one hand."

They clasped forearms and clapped each others' shoulders, and Halt looked as happy as Will had ever seen him.

Halt gestured to Will. "Will, this is my first apprentice, Gilan. For some reason, he still thinks he can pull the wool over my eyes, despite every plan of his failing. Gilan, my apprentice, Will."

"Good to meet you, Will," Gilan said, wrapping his hand around Will's arm.

Will felt awkward in mimicking the action. "Same to you. If you have time, could you show me how you move? I didn't see you once, but you must have passed through my vision to get to the kitchen window."

Gilan grinned at Halt. "Look at that, the boy has manners. Maybe you should take lessons."

Will righted the other fallen chair and stared at Gilan's feet. "Are you an Earthbender?"

Gilan nodded.

"Were you too small for Battleschool, too?"

"Too — what? No, I had no intention of joining the Battleschool," Gilan said.

"You chose to be a Ranger?" Will realized too late that the surprise in his voice sounded insulting.

"Some of us do," Halt said. He gestured to Gilan. "His father is Sir David, Araluen Island's Battlemaster."

Will stared in awe at Gilan. "Your father commanded the army that drove away Morgarath and the Fire Nation!"

Gilan bowed his head. "That he did. When I manifested my Earthbending, he made sure I was trained, so I could be an Earthbender like him. Except, I had no interest in that. Battleschool is all routines and strict schedules and following the chain of command. A Ranger's life is more suited to me."

"Do you still Earthbend? Can you Earthbend and shoot an arrow at the same time? What about while riding?"

"Yes, yes, and yes," Gilan said.

"Gilan had already been training his Earthbending skills for some time before he became my apprentice," Halt said. "I provided leave as needed to continue that."

"I would have preferred Ranger training the entire time, but I can't deny that my Earthbending has saved my life more than once."

Will thought of a question that had been floating in his mind for the past few weeks. "Halt? What happens if we have to fight a bender? Will a bow and knives work against that?"

"They've worked for me," Halt said. "If you're staying more than a few hours, Gilan, I'd appreciate you training with Will on that."

"I'd be honored," Gilan said.

Halt stoked the fire in the stove and started a pot of coffee for the three of them, while Gilan filled them in on why he had arrived.

"First, of course, I needed to drop off your emu pony," Gilan said to Will. "His name is Tug. Once we've had something to drink, you can meet him."

"I had planned to go to Old Bob's myself with Will," Halt said. "Why the change?"

Gilan ran his fingernail over a scratch in the wood table. "That's the other reason I came. Old Bob — he breeds all of the Rangers' emu ponies — he was attacked."

Halt's eyebrows rose with the news. He tugged his beard. "The Fire Nation?"

Gilan nodded. "He and his family all survived, as did the entire the flock. But his house is gone, the stables, too. We've lost all written record of the emu ponies' lineages, though from what I understand, Old Bob knows them by heart, so some lucky scribe will get to write all of that down."

"Where is Old Bob now?" Halt asked.

Gilan shrugged. "I don't know. He's safe, I know that much, but his whereabouts and that of his family is a strict secret. They've been relocated somewhere. Will's the only apprentice at the moment, so I've brought Tug. The rest of the flock has been relocated, too."

Will took in the information with a rising sense of anxiety. Since his first week of apprenticeship with Halt, there hadn't been any more talk of Fire Nation attacks.

"Be on the lookout for messenger hawks," Gilan said to Halt. "I don't know what the next plan is from Crowley, but I'm sure he'll want everyone on the alert."

Halt nodded but didn't say anything. He poured coffee in three mugs and distributed them.

As if he felt the building tension in the room, Gilan slapped the table and said, "You have an emu pony now, Will. Would you like to meet him?"

Will nodded. He tried to smile, but it felt forced.

Gilan led them all outside. There was a bounce in his step as if the previous conversation hadn't worried him at all. Halt brought up the rear of the group, lost in thought, his eyes unfocused.

"Come here, Blaze," Gilan said, and the larger emu pony responded to his call. "Good girl," he said, scratching beneath her chin. He produced an apple from somewhere, and Blaze swallowed it whole.

Tug was now alone in the middle of the glade. He stood at peace, looking at Will with inquisitive eyes. It wasn't an expression Will had associated with ostrich horses — emu ponies, he corrected himself.

"Can I ride him?" Will asked Halt.

He shrugged. "If you think that's wise."

Will approached slowly, holding out his hand, palm down, to let Tug get his scent. The emu pony leaned closer, and the movement dislodged its reins from their loose place on the saddle, and they hung over the ground. Reaching out, Will tried to grab them. Tug squawked and shied away.

"Come on, boy," Will said more to himself than to Tug. He tried the same slow approach tactic. His fingers brushed the reins this time, but Tug hopped out of reach. There had to be some trick to this. Will glanced around the glade. Halt and Gilan stood together, and Gilan had something red in his hand. Noticing Will's attention, Gilan lifted the apple, his eyebrows raised in question.

"Can I borrow that?" Will asked. Gilan tossed it to him.

"Are you hungry, Tug?" Will asked the emu pony. He held the apple out. As Tug approached, Will pulled the fruit closer until he could grab the reins. "Good boy. May I?" he ask quietly, letting Tug take the apple in his beak. He hoped Gilan wasn't tricking him about the supposed code word Ranger mounts required to let a person ride them.

Tug gave no indication of hearing him, and Will was nervous as he climbed into the saddle. He was aware of the emu pony's every move and expected Tug to throw him off, but he didn't. Will touched his heel to Tug's side. The emu pony started a slow walk around the glade.

Will grinned at Halt and Gilan. "He's great."

"Old Bob trained this one himself, did he?" Halt asked Gilan.

"His pride and joy."

"You told him." Halt sounded disappointed.

Gilan shrugged in confusion. "Told who what?"

"What was your plan here?" Halt asked. "Make me think Tug didn't have a code word, so I jump up on him as a test, then end up on my backside in the dirt?"

"Ideally, yes," Gilan said with no trace of a smile.

"What an idiotic plan," Halt said.

Gilan laughed and said to Will, "Tug can go a lot faster than that. Take him for a run; it's what he does best."

Halt gave his approval with a wave of his hand.

"Let's go for a run, bo — woah!"

Tug went from standstill to rushing through the forest, and Will thought of that frantic run on Abelard the first night of his apprenticeship. This was so much better. The saddle fit him perfectly, and Tug was just the right size for him. Tug's gait was smooth; his feathers ruffled leaves in the wind, and his feet were a blur over the ground. The pair seemed to soar out of the forest, and any sight of Halt and Gilan was long gone. Will turned Tug on a path toward Wensley Village, and they raced through minutes later.

People stopped on the streets and in the fields to look at him, a boy on the fastest mount they'd ever seen, Ranger cloak trailing behind him. Tug sped across the bridge spanning the Tarbus River, and Will tugged on the reins. Tug immediately veered left, as if he and Will shared the same thoughts. They were in the forest again, and Tug moved between the trees without any input from Will. There was a fallen log ahead, and before Will could give an order, Tug had sprung on his powerful legs and vaulted over the obstacle.

"You're amazing!" Will said, and Tug squawked at him.

They ran alongside the Tarbus River, and Will felt like he was flying. He forgot Gilan's news about the Fire Nation attack. He forgot about the war. He forgot he wasn't an Earthbender.

Will felt a rumble come from inside Tug's body, and the emu pony squawked. Will noticed movement ahead, a person emerging from the Tarbus. The person slipped on a rock and crashed on all fours into the water.

"Hold up, boy," Will said and pulled on the reins, but he didn't have to — Tug stopped at his words. Will jumped to the ground, his hand close to the knives on his belt. "Hello? Are you okay?"

The boy in the water scrambled up to the bank. He was fully drenched, wearing old battle greens, and his face was bright red. Will stared, and the boy stared back.

"Horace?" Will asked. He hadn't seen his former wardmate since the boy had been chosen as a Battleschool apprentice. In the month since then, Horace had changed. His muscles were larger and more defined, and his face had lost much of the roundness of youth. His dark hair had been cut shorter, and his tan was shades deeper. What Will didn't notice was his bloodshot eyes and the small bloody marks on his hands from holding a boulder over his head the past ten minutes.

"What are you doing here?" Horace growled. His face contorted in anger. He pointed at Tug and sneered. "That's what they give you as a Ranger's apprentice? You sneak off in the middle of the night, and in exchange you get a badly-dyed cloak and a molting little bird?"

Will had hoped time in the Battleschool would mollify Horace, but it seemed to have done the opposite. He stood between Horace and Tug. "Tug is mine. Don't insult him," he said calmly, though his heart was racing.

"Go back where you came from," Horace said. He sniffed and wiped water from his face, but his arms were wet. "Nobody wanted you, and they still don't."

"That isn't true," Will said. "I'm a Ranger's apprentice now."

Horace spat on the ground. "Good for you, a sneaking little assassin."

"Rangers aren't assassins! We protect the kingdom."

"No!" Horace shouted. He pointed at himself. "We protect the kingdom. Earthbenders! Soldiers! We do, while you and the Rangers and your pathetic birds run around the forest playing hide and seek."

Tug clawed at the ground, trilling quietly behind Will.

"It's fine, boy," Will said. "We should go."

"That's what you do best, isn't it?" Horace asked. "Run in, start trouble, and leave before you have to deal with the consequences."

Will's hands trembled as he climbed into Tug's saddle. "Come on, Tug, let's go."

"You aren't running away. Not this time!" Horace shouted.

The earth erupted into sheer walls fifteen feet high, soaring up in a circle around Horace and Will like an arena. Tug stopped short of hitting one, and he searched the area for an opening, but there was none. Will dismounted, unwilling to put Tug in danger. He wished he had brought his bow. He was no match for Horace in a fight like this, and both he and Horace knew it.

"I've been training for more than afternoon rides in the woods," Horace said. "Show me what you've learned. I'll keep it a fair fight: no bending. You can have your bird fight, too, if you want."

"I won't fight you, Horace," Will said. He kept his body turned to hide his hand pulling his saxe knife from its sheath. He held it by the blade, ready to throw.

"I don't care." Horace threw himself at Will with a yell.

Will shouted at Tug to run, then he jumped away from Horace's path. He brought his arm up in the familiar motion, back then forward with a step, and he threw the knife at Horace. The hilt would have struck the other boy's head, but Horace threw himself to the side, and the knife landed in the dirt.

"A knife?" Horace scoffed in disdain. "You have no honor as a warrior."

Will gritted his teeth to hold back a snarling reply. His throwing knife was already in hand, but he didn't loose it. It was his last chance to take down Horace, and he needed to be strategic. He had to ensure that Horace wouldn't dodge.

"Stop running away, and fight me," Horace said. "You wanted to be an Earthbending warrior, didn't you? Just like your dad. Look at you now, turning your back on a fight like a coward! I'll bet your father was just the same!"

Will yelled wordlessly and charged Horace. He threw his knife mid-run, and it missed Horace by several feet. Will didn't care. He crashed into Horace's middle and sent the bigger boy staggering back. Before Horace had a chance to recover, Will snatched up his fallen saxe and swung out at his former wardmate with the blunt edge. Horace was quicker, though. He dropped to the ground, rolling out of Will's range. He jumped back to his feet and launched a series of punches and kicks at Will, each one flowing into the next like the same, continuous movement. Will avoided the first attacks, but Horace's backhand caught him off-guard, and a kick to his stomach sent him to the ground. Will struggled for air, and he couldn't get his feet beneath him to stand.

Horace kicked the saxe away from Will. His fists curled, and the rock wall groaned, as if Horace was trying to move it all at once.

"You're pathetic," Horace said. "You can't even win a stupid fight."

Horace's foot swung at Will's face.

Will rolled to the side, and Horace's kick, meeting no target, turned into a wild stumble forward. It was the time Will needed to push himself to his feet. His ribs ached, and his head spun, and he knew he had no chance of winning this fight. Horace approached him again, lashing out with a punch that lacked the finesse of his earlier attacks. Will dodged to the side; he remembered the Airbending meditation that Alyss had taught him, and he turned his sideways movement into a turning momentum. He kept dodging and spinning, managing to avoid each of Horace's desperate attacks.

Then his back hit the rock wall. Horace was too close to escape.

For once in Will's life, his mind was empty. On instinct, he raised his hand to protect against Horace's massive fist racing toward him. Fire lashed out like dragon's breath.

* * *

Notes:

Thanks for **AreiaCannaid** for the review!


	7. Chapter 7

Will and Horace gaped at each other as the fire died midair and wisps of smoke curled toward the treetops.

"You're …" Horace stepped back. "You're a—"

Tug slammed into Horace, knocking him to the ground. The emu pony doubled back, gathering up speed for another run.

Will lunged in front of his new mount, arms wide. "Tug, no!"

Tug slowed, and he walked to the side, as if to flank Horace. When Will was certain Tug wouldn't attack again, he relaxed.

"Who from the Fire Nation are you taking orders from?" Horace asked. He was on his feet and in a half-crouch, his hands balled into fists.

"I'm not a spy, Horace! And I'm not a - a …" Will wanted to say 'Firebender,' but he couldn't. He had created fire. It had been weak and a dull red, but he'd felt its heat.

"You're a Firebender," Horace said. "I won't let you escape. I'll take you to the Baron, and I'll try to ensure you get a fair trial."

"We've known each other since we were kids!" Will felt helpless to his own defense. He knew that if Horace had been the Firebender, Will would have reacted the same as Horace was now. "I've never been a bender! I don't know how I am now."

"You've always been sneaking out of your room," Horace said. "How much information did you give to the Fire Nation?"

"I haven't given any—"

Horace moved his hands in a deliberate form, and earth shot up around Will in a box to his shoulders. Horace pushed his hands together, and the small rock walls around Will pressed themselves against the apprentice Ranger's sides, back, and front. Will tried to scramble out of the makeshift prison, but Horace caught him before he had both arms out. With his free hand, Will tried to push himself out of the rock. The stone walls groaned, moving closer together by an inch, and Will stopped. Already he was losing feeling in his stuck arm.

"Don't fight me, Will: I'll win," Horace said.

Tug dashed toward Horace, and the boy dodged to the side. The emu pony's long neck whipped around, and he bit Horace's shoulder. Horace jumped back, and with a well-practiced form, walls soared up around Tug.

"Tug!"

"I didn't hurt him," Horace said. He checked his shoulder. Tug's beak had torn through his old battle greens, and blood trickled from a small cut. "I have more decency than your kind do."

"Horace, please, listen to me! I'm not your enemy!" Will said. "I'm a Ranger's apprentice. I'm not helping the Fire Nation. You know I'm telling the truth!"

"Stop talking!" Horace snapped. He wanted to believe Will, and that terrified him. As much as he and Will had bickered and fought growing up, they were still the closest thing each had to a brother. They both knew what it was like to be orphans, and they both knew the struggles of starting over as an apprentice where life was rarely fair.

But Firebenders were evil. They had started a war of conquest that still raged across the world. They killed and captured and enslaved their opposition. Most importantly to Horace, they had murdered his parents.

Five years after the Battle of Araluen Island, a platoon of Fire Nation soldiers had raided Horace's village. Horace's father had died first, defending the village against the initial attack. When the soldiers had broken through the defensive line and swarmed the village, Horace's mother had joined the line of civilian defenders and never returned to her only child.

"I'm not the enemy!" Will said. "I have no idea what's happening, Horace."

"Just be quiet!"

"I'm sorry, Horace. I shouldn't have fought you before."

Horace turned his back to Will, and shame rolled over the bigger boy. Will had done everything he could to stop the fight before it had started, but Horace had refused to listen. He had wanted — needed — to prove that he could best someone. Will had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Why are you even out here?" Horace asked.

Will pointed at the walls hiding Tug. "My emu pony, Tug. I got him today. He's so fast you wouldn't believe it. We weren't planning to come this way. It was just chance."

Horace crouched, and his legs burned in pain. Alda, Brynn, and Jerome had led him out here, forced him to stand in the river and hold a rock above his head. They'd told him to count to one hundred, then forced him to start again when they deemed he was counting too quickly. When Horace had started Battleschool, he had imagined himself as a proud Earthbending warrior that would save entire villages single-handedly against the Fire Nation. Instead, he was a scared little boy who did whatever his tormentors told him to do. He hated that he couldn't stand up to Alda, Brynn, and Jerome, but they were his superiors. To refuse to do what they said would be to refuse the chain of Battleschool command.

"Horace?" Will asked. "Are you okay?"

Abruptly, Horace stood. He blinked rapidly, forcing back the tears that wanted to fall. "Does your master know?"

Will shook his head, even though Horace couldn't see. "No. Why would he? I didn't know!"

In his makeshift paddock, Tug hissed, and both boys heard the emu pony digging at the ground.

"You can't keep this a secret," Horace said. When he turned back to Will, the bigger boy's eyes were red, but to Will he seemed more composed. "The Baron and your master, at least, have to know."

Will struggled to imagine what Halt would say upon learning of his Firebending. Would Halt throw him out and refuse to train one of the "enemy," or would he try to use Will as a spy? Both options scared Will, and he never wanted to talk about this horrible ability again.

"I-I'll let you go, but you'll have to come with me to tell the Baron," Horace said.

Tug hissed louder than before.

"What's wrong with your bird?" Horace asked, looking at the wall hiding Tug.

Neither boy saw what happened next, but they both heard it. There were a few, thunderous footfalls before a fury of fur and curling tusks bashed through the tallest of the original walls Horace had created. Rocks the size of small boulders soared through the air, and when they hit the ground, the sent up a spray of dirt and rock. Horace built a wedge-shaped defense against the projectiles, and Will made himself as small as possible in his rock prison.

There was a gaping hole in the wall, and a dark, furious beast the size of hay wagon walked through. Its curved claws scratched the ground with each step, and it sniffed the air with its snout. Tusks coiled out of its mouth, and when it snarled at Horace and Will, they saw a vicious set of teeth.

"A wolverine boar," Will whispered. To Horace he said, "Let me out."

Horace didn't have time. The wolverine boar charged at the Earthbender. Horace created earthen wall after earthen wall, and the wolverine boar smashed through each of them like paper. He created a spike from the earth and tried to spear the beast. The attack knocked the wolverine boar off balance but didn't pierce its thick hide. The wolverine boar turned its stumble into a direction change, and it charged at Will.

In the seconds he had, Will struggled against the rock holding him in place. He freed his other arm and pulled himself out enough so that when the wolverine boar tore beneath him, it hit only rock and not Will's legs. Will toppled over the back of the wolverine boar and rolled onto the ground behind it.

Will scrambled to his feet. His saxe knife was near, and he snatched it up from the ground.

"Horace! Slow it down!" Will called.

Horace planted himself in a deep stance and, with a grunting effort, pulled up a wall three feet thick between them and the wolverine boar. They both heard the beast smack into it, and the ground shook. Leaves twisted down from the branches above. There were cracks in Horace's wall, but it held.

Will tried to calm him rushing heart and trembling hands. He listened to the wolverine boar circle the wall, and it appeared in the open again.

"Once it starts running, throw up another of those big walls," Will said to Horace.

Horace nodded. He settled into his stance as the wolverine board charged.

"Now!" Will said when the wolverine boar was close enough.

Horace created another thick wall. They both waited for the smack as the beast hit it. Instead, they heard several wrenching crunches, and the wolverine boar was on top of the wall. It hissed, those savage teeth glinting, and it jumped.

Two arms clamped around Will as Horace bodily hurled him to safety. Horace tried to throw himself out of the way of the wolverine boar, but it caught him with a glancing blow from its arm that sent Horace flying into his own wall. He hit the ground, still conscious but dazed and vulnerable. The wolverine boar rounded on him.

"Horace! Hey, you ugly-faced monster! Over here!" Will shouted.

The wolverine boar ignored him.

Will could imagine those claws tearing up Horace's skin, mangling him while he was still alive. Will lined up his knife throw, putting everything out of his mind save for the throw he'd practiced a thousand and one times. He released the knife and knew it would fly true. It would have hit the wolverine boar square in the eye if the creature hadn't moved. Instead, the knife grazed the underside of the wolverine boar's neck. It hissed and turned on Will. Blood dripped from its fur, but Will knew it was only a minor wound and likely had only angered the creature further.

The wolverine boar ran at him, its head low to the ground, and its tusks ripping at brush and deadfall. Will ran for the nearest wall. The wolverine boar had already broken through the wall on the opposite side, but if Will could climb high enough, he might get the creature to follow him and chase him somewhere else. Where that might be, Will couldn't begin to imagine. All he needed to do right now was survive the next ten seconds.

He swarmed up the wall, which had no shortage of hand- and foot-holds. The wall shook with the weight of the wolverine boar following him. Its claws speared through the stone with no effort. At the top of the wall, Will realized he had nowhere to go. If he climbed down, the wolverine boar would jump on him and catch him before he ever reached safety. But remaining up here meant he was unarmed and alone with the beast. The wolverine boar's long claws slashed out at Will; he jumped backward and felt the rush of wind from the attack.

Will watched the wolverine boar's muscles tense up, then it lunged for him. Will called on his terror and desperate need to live, and he thrust his hands out. Fire lashed at the wolverine boar, singing its fur; Will nearly choked on the smell of burning hair. The wolverine boar didn't retreat, but it didn't advance either. Its predatory eyes examined this new threat. Will didn't wait for the creature's next attack. He pulled his hand behind his head, then thrust his arm forward as if throwing a knife, except a jagged line of flame billowed in the wolverine boar's face. It squealed in pain so loud that Will had to clamp his hands over his ears.

The wolverine boar's face was burned and smoking. It bared its teeth and snapped at Will.

A deep thrumming noise echoed through the air, and a black-shafted arrow burrowed through the wolverine boar's hide, pierced its lungs, and lodged in its heart. The beast lost its hold on the wall, and the ground shook when it landed.

"Halt!" Will felt tears of relief on his face when he saw Halt and Gilan surge through the trees on their emu ponies.

Gilan was first to the wall, and he created a set of stairs to allow Will down.

"Is it dead?" Will asked. "Horace is in there!"

Gilan brought down the walls. The wolverine boar was a massive lump of flesh and hair. Will's knees buckled seeing it, and he staggered to stay upright. He stared at the wolverine boar, waiting for it to return to life.

Halt was at Will's side, and he wrapped his arm around his apprentice's shaking shoulders.

"It's dead," Halt said.

He watched as Gilan set the area to rights, pushing the walls back into the ground and smoothing out scattered rubble. The walls came down around Tug, who rushed to Will's side.

"What happened?" Halt asked.

Will shook his head and buried his face in his master's cloak. Tomorrow, he might not be a Ranger's apprentice. He might be put on trial for Firebending. He might end up in prison. But right now, he was alive.

* * *

Halt and Gilan allowed the two apprentices time to settle down from the ordeal. Horace sat against a tree, a wet cloth to his head where the wolverine boar had hit him. Gilan sat beside Horace and tended to the cut on his arm. Horace was lost in thought and barely noticed Gilan's touch. While Will searched the area for his two knives, Halt checked over Tug, who, aside from being agitated, was unharmed.

When Halt deemed enough time had passed, he called Will and Horace together.

"Explain what's gone on here?" he asked.

"Halt," Will began, "there was a misunderstanding—"

"It was my fault," Horace said. There was a reddening spot on his forehead, and his battle greens were shredded where the wolverine boar had caught him, though its claws hadn't actually bit into his skin. "I provoked Will. I was wrong. And when the wolverine boar attacked us, Will didn't hesitate to protect me, despite what I had done." Horace bowed to Will. "I'm sorry. You saved my life. I won't forget that."

Will smiled weakly, bowing in return. "Thanks, Horace. You saved me, too."

"Gilan," Halt said, "escort Horace back to the Battleschool. Tell the Baron I'll be there within the hour."

"Right away, Halt," Gilan said. He helped Horace onto the back of his Ranger emu pony, and they left for Castle Redmont.

Halt directed Will to several large rocks by the river, and they sat. Will was grateful for the seat. Now that he was out of a battle for his life, he felt tired and sluggish.

"What happened, Will?" Halt asked.

Will recounted the story of coming upon Horace, and their escalation into a physical fight. He hesitated before telling Halt about the Firebending, but he reasoned that Halt had already seen his display at the top of the wall. Tug nuzzled Will's neck when he explained how the emu pony had come to his defense and Horace's subsequent penning him up.

"I don't think Horace actually meant to hurt me," Will said. "After he found out about … all he wanted to do was what was right by Araluen Island. And when the wolverine boar came at us, he kept me safe after it climbed the wall the first time."

"That doesn't discount the fact that he forced you into a fight. I assume he didn't know about the Firebending then."

Will shook his head. "It's still hard to believe."

"The nations aren't fixed, you know," Halt said. "People travel. It's possible Firebenders lived on Araluen Island before the war. As for not knowing until now, no one suspected this power, so no one tested you. It's possible fire responded to you in the past, but no one noticed."

Will barely listened to what Halt said. "But I'm a Firebender."

"And?"

"They're the enemy!"

Halt nodded slowly. "Do you want the Fire Nation to rule over Araluen Island, Will?"

"No! Of course not!"

"Then you're not the enemy."

Will wished the situation were that simple. "But I'm a Firebender. It doesn't make any sense. I thought — people here aren't Firebenders. They're Earthbenders and Waterbenders, and even the Waterbenders are rare. People from Araluen Island aren't Firebenders."

"You are."

"That's not the point!"

Halt held up his hand to stop Will. "We've already established you're loyal to Araluen Island. If you think a person's good or evil based on their bending, then you're wrong. What kind of bender is Morgarath?"

"A Waterbender," Will said quietly.

"And yet we don't treat other Waterbenders as if they all side with Morgarath. You aren't your bending, Will."

"Are you going to tell the Sir Rodney and the Baron?" Will asked.

Halt considered the question. "The Baron should know. Who he chooses to tell is his business."

Will felt uneasy. Would the Baron only strip him of his apprenticeship, or would he do something more drastic? "What does he think about Firebenders?"

"It depends," Halt said. "If they're loyal to the Fire Lord, they're enemies. If they're loyal to King Duncan, I suppose he would think of them as friends."

Will glanced up at Halt. "Do you think I can still be a Ranger?"

Halt shrugged. "Maybe, if you can improve your tracking skills."

"But what does that have to do with Firebending."

"Nothing. You're my apprentice, Will. You've already proved you're brave and a half-decent tactician. Whether or not you're a Firebender has no bearing on if you become a Ranger."

Will nodded, and he grinned from relief after the most stressful, terrifying half-hour of his life. "Thanks, Halt."

Halt grunted. "Head back to the cabin now. No detours. I expect you'll fix those tears in your clothes yourself; we don't keep a tailor."

"Yes, Halt."

"And have supper started at the usual time. I don't know when I'll return." Halt swung into his saddle. He waited for Will to do the same. "You've got yourself a good emu pony there. Treat him well."

"Yes, Halt." Will scratched under Tug's chin, and the emu pony emitted a sound like a deep, rolling purr. "Halt?"

His master paused in gathering up his reigns.

"Thank you."

Halt grunted again, then he and Abelard sped off through the trees.

* * *

**Notes**:

Thanks everyone for reading up to this point. I haven't done any real notes up to this point, but better late than never.

Location: For anyone interested, Araluen Island does have a place in the Avatar world. It's the Earth Kingdom island just west of the Eastern Air Temple Island. It was never visited during A:TLA or LoK, and has good land features for what I wanted in Araluen Island. Redmont is on the north side of the inlet (Oswald's Inlet, as I've named it), and Gorlan is at the very top of the island, surrounded by mountains. As for the distinctly English names in a very Asian-inspired world ... eh, suspension of disbelief, I suppose.

Will's Bending: I was back and forth on what kind of bending Will should have, if any. Firebending seemed the most compelling, and offers a lot of opportunities for the future.

Reviews**:**

**AreiaCannaid**: Thanks for your reviews on each chapter! I always look forward to them. Also, my brain didn't work until earlier this week, and I finally realized you wrote _Hiraeth_, which is one of my favorite fanfics on this site. I'm planning to drop some reviews on it, since I always meant to but didn't have an account until about a month ago. I also checked out some of your other stuff, and I love the focus on Gilan. He needs to be in more books. I've got a lot more planned with him in this story.

**laurenkm1013**: Thanks for the review! It was a pretty mean cliffhanger, I'll admit that. I was already at my longest chapter yet, though, and I needed a reason to bring you all back :)


	8. Chapter 8

"I am sorry, Halt, but I cannot allow this." Baron Arald had regret in his eyes, but his expression was stern. Sitting in his high-backed chair and behind his desk, he mustered his full authority to face the Ranger standing opposite him. "It is unprecedented to allow a Firebender access to one of the highest offices on Araluen Island, and I will not be the first to change that."

"Nothing has changed about Will. He grew up under your watch, and his loyalty is to this kingdom," Halt said, his voice low and dangerous.

"I didn't know then what I know now."

"And that makes him a different person?"

Baron Arald wanted to slouch in the armchair by the fire and pass off this responsibility to someone else, but he couldn't. His role as Baron meant that he had to make these sorts of painful decisions for the good of the country. "There is already fear spreading across the island, Halt: the attempted raids over the last month, and word of the Ranger horse breeder is common knowledge. If the people learn that a Ranger — even a Ranger's apprentice — is a Firebender, that will only hurt the trust the people have in us. I cannot allow Will to remain your apprentice."

Halt's hands tightened around the thick leather of his belt. Baron Arald had been his friend for more than a decade, one of his first true friends since arriving on Araluen Island. "I understand your decision, my lord."

Tension eased from Baron Arald's shoulders. "Thank you, Halt."

"And with all due respect," Halt's dark eyes flashed, "I wasn't asking permission, only delivering information. I'm a King's Ranger, not a Baron's. You don't have the authority to decide who my apprentice should or should not be."

"Now, Halt—"

"You can contact the king, if this issue bothers you," Halt said. "But until such time as King Duncan gives the order, Will will be my apprentice."

Baron Arald stood, his chair groaning on the wood floor. "Don't burn bridges now, Halt."

Halt appeared unmoved. "I should say the same to you. Good day, my lord." He bowed his head and left the Baron's office. 

* * *

Halt met Gilan in Castle Redmont's outer courtyard.

"Horace is all checked in with the Battleschool," Gilan said. "The healers are with him now. None of his injuries looked serious to me, so I expect he'll be throwing rocks by tomorrow."

Halt grunted. His footsteps were forceful and angry, but silent.

Gilan frowned. "The Baron didn't take the news well, I assume?"

He grunted again, and Gilan took that as a yes. He had anticipated this outcome. Truth be told, seeing Will Firebend had lit a primal fear in him. Gilan had been young during the Battle of Araluen Island, too young to make any impact himself, but he remembered the smell of burnt skin, and late nights eavesdropping on his father and other battlemasters recounting war stories.

"Why did you tell him?" Gilan asked. "What's the harm in keeping it quiet, especially if Will has no intention of training? Not that there are any teachers available."

"He roasted that wolverine boar's face," Halt said. "The Baron will send soldiers to clear it out and deliver it to the butcher. Only a Firebender could have created burn marks like that. There will be rumors before morning."

Gilan nodded. "Better the Baron learn from you rather than soldier gossip. Considering the optics of the situation, he may create his own story to hide how those burns ended up there."

"Optics," Halt said as if the word was a curse.

They gathered Abelard and Gilan's emu pony, Blaze, and returned to Halt's cabin in the trees. Will greeted them tiredly, with supper prepared. He had seen to Tug, and the little emu pony was grazing in the paddock behind the cabin.

"Did the Baron have anything to say?" Will asked as he, Halt, and Gilan ate at the table. "About me?"

"He had plenty to say," Halt replied. "But it doesn't matter. I decide who my apprentice is, not him."

Will looked down from the other men. "I thought … he doesn't trust me anymore, does he?"

Gilan said, "It's hard to say, Will. It's possible that the Baron's opinion on you hasn't changed at all. He's most concerned about what the public opinion will be, should they find out. But Halt's right: the Baron can't force you to leave."

"But the king could," Will said.

"The king has more important things to worry about," Halt said.

"But what if he does find out?"

Halt took in the fear on his apprentice's face. The boy had a right to be scared. "Then I'll deal with it." 

* * *

Gilan left the next morning. Letters for Halt arrived the day after that. Halt received reports created by the other nineteen Araluen Island Rangers, and they would in turn receive copies of his. Will was worried with this batch would contain a letter from the king. There was none, though, only reports. Halt read them on the cabin's front porch, while Will practiced with his bow.

"Interesting," Halt said to himself.

Will released his tension on the bowstring and looked to his master. He thought Halt might have some comment about his technique, but Halt was focused on a report.

"What's interesting?" Will asked.

Halt gave him the paper. "Read that. What do you make of it?"

Will read through the neat words, having to sound out some of them to understand what they were. It was a report about the Firebender attack on Old Bob's home and stables. It was a few paragraphs long, and he shrugged when he finished.

"It's the same thing Gilan told us," Will said.

"Read it again."

Will did, and he paid careful attention to each word. Something had to have caught Halt's interest. He reread a passage about the Ranger's review of the damage to Old Bob's home.

"It looks like the fire started at the back of the house?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

Will said, "The fire started at the back of the house."

Halt nodded. "It started low to the ground, and there seems to have been a single point of origin. The same is true for the stable."

"Does that mean there was only one Firebender?" Will asked.

"No." Halt took the report back and scanned it again. "A Firebender would attack straight forward; we would expect to find the source of the fire about chest height, and likely to have multiple points of origin. This suggests there weren't any Firebenders at all."

Will sat on the porch beside him, working through what Halt had said. "So maybe just Fire Nation soldiers and no benders?"

"Possible, but unlikely. Old Bob's home is miles from any shoreline, and its whereabouts unknown to most people. It doesn't make sense as a target. And if that was a Fire Nation attack, it was a poor go. Only slight injuries."

"If it was a Fire Nation attack? Do you think someone from Araluen Island did this?" His master didn't disagree. "Do you think they're working with the Fire Nation, or did they set the fire for another reason? But why? By attacking Old Bob, they were attacking the Rangers, and that's treason, right?"

Halt nodded.

"You said Old Bob's location was a secret. So, if these people knew about it, that probably means they aren't nobody."

"That's my thinking, as well. Someone — or several people — with enough knowledge to be dangerous, but lacking the experience to be deadly."

"They could be anywhere," Will said. He looked around the little glade, which seemed to have grown darker. He imagined watching eyes in the trees. "What fief is — was — Old Bob in?"

"At the edge of Highcliff and Meric, but near enough to the border of Redmont that these arsonists could easily be from any of the fiefs. Or, they could be from a different one altogether."

The thought of traitors so close to home scared Will. He forced himself to be brave and keep the quaver out of his voice. "How do we stop them if we don't know who they are?"

"Spread the news among the other Rangers, and be vigilant," Halt said. "I expect some other fires may be re-examined for the potential of arson."

Will soon returned to his shooting practice, but he was distracted. Only after several near-miss shots and a stern warning from Halt did he manage to push thoughts of arson and treason to the back of his mind and focus on his target. 

* * *

As the weeks passed, and summer turned to autumn, Will had little time to think. He let his worry over his Firebending ease after three weeks passed with no letter from the king. Halt hadn't discussed the matter, either, and Will was happy to keep it that way.

Will was curious sometimes when he looked at a burning candle or the fireplace, wondering if he could make the flame burn larger or snuff it out, but he kept himself in check and let his curiosities remain fleeting thoughts. He couldn't remember what he had done to drum up the fire when fighting Horace and the wolverine boar. In both instances, he had acted on instinct for fear of pain or death, and the fire had just happened.

It was for this reason he poured himself into practicing his archery, knife throwing, and close quarters combat. If he could instill new instincts, he wouldn't need to rely on Firebending in times of stress.

More Ranger reports trickled in from around the country. Once Halt finished his initial review, he had Will read them. Will learned more about Araluen Island in the following few months than he had in the past fifteen years.

There was talk of building a new fortress near Gorlan village to replace the lost castle, but local officials couldn't agree on funding sources or if they should accept a new baron. Seacliff fief, which was on the far side of the mountains, was dreadfully dull; the Ranger there provided reports about pig chicken thieves and fixed ballots at the village curry cook off. Will had at first enjoyed reading about the simple goings on of people who didn't have to worry about Firebenders or raids, but that enjoyment had quickly wore off after the fifth report of poor quality fishing line. In the south, Castle Norgate guarded the border between Araluen Island and Celtica. This, too, seemed dull, as the Ranger provided the full list of border check-ins between both nations, and Halt insisted that Will read each name.

"Learn the usual travelers," Halt had said, "then you'll notice the uncommon ones: new people making the crossing; those who leave and return too quickly; people who cross more or less often than usual."

He tried to follow Halt's instruction, but he always drifted to other thoughts three pages into the list.

Will's favorite report was that from Ranger Crowley of Araluen fief. Crowley lived in the castle and regularly associated with the king and his advisers. Will started piecing together the makeup of the court at Castle Araluen. He learned of Cassandra, King Duncan's daughter, who was about Will's age. Although King Duncan was an Earthbender, Cassandra was a Waterbender, like her late mother, who had been raised in the Southern Water Tribe.

When Will wasn't practicing his Ranger skills or reading reports, he patrolled Redmont fief with Halt. They explored the forests and visited the village. There was a rumor that had spun up in the weeks following Will's fight with Horace — a brave Battleschool cadet had single-handedly slain a fire-breathing wolverine boar. No one up to this point had ever heard of a fire-breathing wolverine boar, but in these troubled times, anything was possible. Will was happy for Horace, and relived that there weren't stories of a Firebending Ranger's apprentice. 

* * *

After the encounter in the forest, Horace's life changed. He hadn't known about the rumors of his own prowess until several cadets in his class had approached him, asking to see his burn scars.

"Burns?" Horace didn't know what to say. Had these boys and girls found out about Will? "I don't have any burns."

One of the cadets, a girl with braided black hair, said to another, "I told you so. He wouldn't have left the infirmary so quickly if he had burns. Do you know how long those take to heal?"

"They have Waterbending healers," another cadet said. "Burns heal like everything else."

A third cadet, a thick-necked boy with a deep tan, asked Horace, "Well, how big was it?"

"The wolverine boar?"

All of the cadets had nodded, moving closer to better hear the answer.

The I-told-you-so girl said, "Was it bigger than normal ones? It probably was if it could breathe fire!"

Horace realized that no one knew about Will's bending. He nodded and played along with the story. "It was huge! It climbed right over a wall I'd made and broke through a whole line of others."

The cadets pestered him for more details and a play-by-play of the fight. Horace did his best to make the fight sound believable. As the days passed, he heard his story repeated throughout the Battleschool, and each retelling made him sound more impressive. For the first time, he felt like an Earthbending warrior. When people looked at him, it was with awe.

Even Alda, Bryn, and Jerome had left him alone. The few times he saw them, the three second year cadets had been busy talking between themselves to pay attention to him.

Life at the Battleschool felt natural now. He continued to excel with his Earthbending, even as a third of the cadets in his year dropped out, either voluntarily or by order of Sir Rodney. History and battle tactics classes were easier, since he wasn't over-tired from worrying about Alda, Bryn, and Jerome. By all accounts, Horace was a model student.

The sun was bright and clouds scarce on one of Horace's coveted free days at the Battleschool. A strong wind from the north brought the faint scent of salt. It had been nearly three months since he and Will had first fought then saved each other in the forest. He had seen Will in passing since then, but never long enough to truly talk to him. He considered Will a friend, and he wanted to know more about what life was like for a Ranger's apprentice. He strolled across the courtyard of Redmont Castle, with the cabin in the woods as his end destination.

"Horace?" Alyss' voice came from across the yard.

Horace waved at her and jogged over. Alice wore a courier's green and blue robe with loose leggings. She had always had an understated confidence, but now it was visible outright. Her expression was peaceful and radiated welcome, and she walked with an easy purpose.

"Alyss, you look like a true courier now," Horace said.

"And you an Earthbending warrior. From what I hear, you defeated an entire pack of Firebending wolverine boars."

Horace blushed. "It was just one."

"I suppose I shouldn't listen to everything I hear," Alyss said. She had seen Horace around the castle during her apprenticeship, but they had both been so busy that there hadn't been time to talk. Her former wardmate seemed calmer and more assured than he had been. She gestured toward the open gate, and they both started walking. "Have you seen Will? I feel like the three of us haven't talked in years."

"I haven't seen him in months. I'm going there now, if you want to come with me."

Alyss was quiet as she thought over the offer. She wanted to know how an apprenticeship with Halt the Ranger had affected Will. Lady Pauline always spoke highly of Halt, the scant times the subject came up, though she didn't always seem to agree with his methods for resolving disputes. "That sounds nice. I'd love to."

Horace chatted about life in the Battleschool while they walked, and he asked Alyss about her time learning under Lady Pauline.

"I've already been on several missions, albeit small ones," Alyss said. "And Lady Pauline has done most of the talking. Just listening to her is an education all its own."

"What's the world like outside of Redmont?"

"Quite the same as you'd find here. There are still crops to be planted and harvested; merchants selling goods; hardheaded Earthbenders punching at rocks in the Battleschools." She smiled at him.

Horace liked the idea that life in Redmont was similar to life in other places. It made the world seem simpler, even if the threat of war was always looming.

They approached the bridge spanning the Tarbus River when Horace noticed movement in the trees. He thought at first it was Will, but there were three people. One of them had red hair and another blond.

"What are they doing?" Horace asked himself.

Alda, Bryn, and Jerome — and Horace had no doubt it was them — were just inside the tree line of the forest, headed in the direction where they had left him three months ago.

"Who are they?" Alyss asked.

"Battleschool cadets. Second years. They like their authority." He hadn't told anyone about what the three boys had done to him, and it hadn't seemed necessary now that they had stopped. But what if they were still demanding tortuous tasks of cadets younger than them?

Alyss heard the subtext in Horace's words. "Do you think they're bullying someone?"

"Bullying? No. That doesn't happen at the Battleschool."

Alyss' pale eyebrows rose. "There was a case just a few weeks ago in Meric fief. Two third year cadets forced a first year to do a dangerous amount of Earthbending until he nearly passed out."

"What happened to the third years?" Horace asked quietly.

"They were expelled, and banished from Meric fief," she said. "That sort of behavior isn't tolerated, Horace. If any Battlemaster finds out, including Sir Rodney, they would do the same."

Horace closed his eyes and felt a wave of relief and shame. He should have told someone, he realized. He felt that he had enabled Alda, Bryn, and Jerome by not speaking up. And now they could be doing what they had done to him to some other first year.

"Sorry, Alyss, you can go on ahead, but I need to go after them."

"Should we alert someone?"

Horace was already jogging toward the forest. "No time!" He had almost lost sight of the three boys. He was surprised when, moments later, Alyss was running by his side. "What are you doing?"

"I could help, if we can resolve this with words. If not, I can run for help."

Horace nodded, seeing her logic. "When we get close, stay behind me. They can all Earthbend."

They followed Alda, Bryn, and Jerome deeper into the forest. Neither Horace nor Alyss was much experienced with remaining unseen, but the wind that day kept the dry leaves shuffling against each other and masked the sound of their footsteps. They kept several hundred feet behind the second year cadets, who had slowed to a steady walk, and kept going north. There wasn't much up north, beyond a small fishing village, a watchtower, and the ocean. Maybe Alda, Bryn, and Jerome just wanted to go for a swim on their day off, and Horace was trailing them for nothing.

Then, the three boys stopped near a jagged protrusion of rock from the earth.

Horace huddled behind a thick tree, and Alyss crouched near him.

Alda punched the side of the rock, and an Earthbender emerged from it. The three Battleschool cadets and the new Earthbender greeted each other with slaps to the arms and back.

Horace sighed. "This was pointless. They're just visiting a friend. Sorry to drag you into this."

"It's no issue. You thought someone was in danger."

Horace had missed Alyss and her way of making him feel comfortable with his choices, even if they hadn't amounted to much. "Come on, let's go find Will."

"Wait," Alyss whispered and returned to her crouch behind a tree.

Horace followed suit and looked at Alda, Bryn, and Jerome again. They had been joined by another person, smaller than the cadets or the new Earthbender. She was pale and dressed in red and black armor. Horace clapped his hand over his mouth to keep from shouting in shock. A glance to Alyss showed she was frozen by her surprise. Fire Nation in the forest. Fire Nation in Redmont.

Shock turned to anger. Alda, Bryn, and Jerome suddenly had much more than bullying to answer for. 

* * *

**Notes**:

So some time passes! Large-ish timeskips in stories have always felt strange for me to write, as they seem rather info-dumpy. Let me know how this one turned out.

Also - I'm glad to get Alyss into the story again. I've always thought she was such a strong, understated character, and I loved her in Book 6. I'm hoping I can get her up to some similar stuff in this story.

**AreiaCannaid**: Thanks for the review! I really like the Will and Horace friendship, and just how straightforward Horace is with everything. All he needs is life-threatening peril, then he can consider someone a friend.


	9. Chapter 9

"Alyss, get backup. I'll keep them here," Horace said. He felt a rising panic at the prospect of confronting his former bullies turned traitors.

"Wait—"

"Go! They could be planning an attack right now!" he whispered.

Alyss put her hand on Horace's arm. "That's not a Fire Nation soldier."

"Yes, it is!"

She shook her head. "You see those shoulder spikes? They haven't been a feature of Fire Nation armor for at least fifteen years. I've seen modern renderings, and they're more streamlined."

"They might be working with what they have."

"I don't think so." Alyss examined the girl in the red and black armor. "She not any older than we are. Horace, I think this might be part of a prank."

If it was a trick, Horace thought, it was a cruel one. That was right in line for Alda, Brynn, and Jerome.

"We have to stop them," Horace said.

"Yes. We need to tell Sir Rodney."

He wanted to stay and watch the group, but if they were going to return to Redmont castle anyway, there was no reason to send Alyss off alone. Alda, Bryn, and Jerome were finishing their conversation with the other two. If Horace and Alyss were to leave without trouble, now was the time.

"Alright. Let's get out of here," he said with a sigh.

They slipped away from their watch point and retraced their steps to Redmont Castle. The castle was a flurry of activity, with servants rushing with supplies, Battleschool students wearing varying amounts of battle greens, and messengers climbing on their ostrich horses and darting through the castle gate.

"What's going on here?" Horace asked. He heard someone shouting his name.

"There you are!" Paul, a third year Battleschool student, jogged over to him. He wore his battle greens and was strapping on his helmet. "The defenses are being mustered. Fire Nation approaching Redmont. Report to the wall for orders."

Horace snapped to attention. "Yes, sir."

Alyss asked, "Were they seen in the forest?"

Paul's face went pale. "No. Did you see them there?"

Alyss hesitated, so Horace responded, "No, sir. It was kids playing pranks."

A horn sounded from above. They all listened to the series of four long notes. It was a call for the people of Wensley Village to fall back behind the Tarbus River and take refuge inside the castle.

"Horace," Paul said. "The wall. Now."

"Yes, sir," he said.

Alyss nodded at him. "And I should check in with Lady Pauline. Good luck."

"You, too," Horace said, and his voice shook despite his best efforts otherwise. 

* * *

Will fidgeted on Tug's back. He wanted to jump down and pace or run, something to release his nervous energy. He pulled his bow from his shoulder and reflexively stretched and eased the bowstring.

"Calm yourself," Halt said. The older man seemed entirely unruffled, despite the scene below.

A Fire Nation battleship was drawing close to a small stretch of beach. Everywhere else along this coastline was sheer cliffs and impassable heights. Even this natural harbor was a danger, as it had reefs scattered throughout that would destroy the underside of a regular vessel, but the hulking metal ship took no notice.

"Are they all that big?" Will asked. The ship had a tall smokestack pumping out bursts of black smoke, and there were several levels of portholes. It could likely carry the entire population of Wensley Village.

Halt shook his head. "No. Most are bigger." He shaded his eyes and watched the ship's bow embed into the beach. There was a sharp creak of metal and a hiss of steam, then the front of the ship fell forward into a sharp ramp. It hit the ground with a thud that Will felt through Tug. The emu pony shook his head and stepped back.

"Calm yourself and him," Halt said. "It'll do no good to have him bolting off."

"It's okay, boy," Will patted Tug's neck. Halt doesn't seem concerned, he thought, so there's no reason for us to be, either.

Tug made a deep chirping sound, as if to say, Have you considered that Halt might be insane?

"Shouldn't we do something?" Will asked.

"Like what?"

"Shoot it? Like you did at Oswald's Inlet?"

"That boat was small and old. Trying the same thing here would be like attempting to take down a badger mole with bee's stinger."

"What if the badger mole is allergic to bees?"

Halt snorted. "We're here to observe. There's no other landing spot for thirty miles in either direction. If another ship is out there, we'll know and inform the Baron."

Despite Will's excess of energy, he was glad he could remain up here while the danger was below. "What will happen when the Baron arrives?"

"When fighting breaks out, we'll provide ranged support. Shoot the enemy commanders or particularly dangerous individuals. If needed, I'll join in the fighting." Halt looked at him for the first time in minutes. "Under no circumstances should you approach the Fire Nation. They're all trained soldiers, and you've been a Ranger's apprentice for a few months."

"What if they come to me?"

"Then run. You're a decent shot, but you aren't ready for an up close fight. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Halt."

The first soldiers started down the ramp. They wore black and red armor with pointed helmets. Some soldiers dotted in the group had white masks added to the helmet, which marked them as Firebenders. They collected on the beach, contained within the high cliff walls around them. There was a narrow passage to the plains of Redmont fief beyond, but it was large enough only for five people to walk abreast.

"This ship could hold up to one hundred people, more likely around seventy," Halt said. "About twenty-five percent will be crew."

And this was a small ship, Will thought. He pulled and relaxed his bowstring again, searching in the distance for a sign of Baron Arald and the Redmont soldiers.

"This way, Will," Halt said, guiding Abelard from the edge of the cliff.

Will followed, unsure. Shouldn't they remain to watched the oncoming soldiers? Halt dismounted near the tree line and dropped Abelard's reigns. Will did the same with Tug.

"They'll think we've left to inform the local lord," Halt said. He crouched and approached the cliff edge again. Will dropped to the ground and used everything he had learned about unseen movement to crawl to the drop. With his hood up, he would appear as a slight bump on the cliff, no different from a clump of grass.

There were about fifty Fire Nation soldiers in total, fifteen of them Firebenders. Will watched beasts the size of saber-toothed moose lions emerge from the ship. They had three long horns on their faces, and each had a Firebender in a broad saddle. The beasts had legs powerful enough they looked like they could crush a man. Halt pointed out a man with a uniform more elaborate than the others.

"That'll be the commander there," he said.

Will saw graying hair and dark skin, but no other specific features from this distance. "Halt? How do you know this isn't a diversion, like the last time the Fire Nation were here?"

"I don't," Halt said. "This contingent is three times the size of what attacked Gorlan months ago. This feels real."

The Redmont forces arrived on the horizon, with Baron Arald in the lead and Sir Rodney at his right. There were twenty five in all, Earthbenders mounted on ostrich horses. As soon as the Fire Nation soldiers saw the arrival of the Redmont forces, the gray-haired commander raised a white flag. A surrender or a truce, Will wondered. The Baron conferred with Sir Rodney, then the Redmont standard bearer raised a complimentary white flag.

"I don't like this," Halt said. "Stay here." He faded away from Will's vision, and the boy knew enough about remaining unseen not to turn his head to search for his master.

Down below, the Fire Nation commander and Baron Arald approached each other halfway between the Redmont forces and the beach. They stopped ten paces apart. A Firebender had accompanied the commander, and Sir Rodney was at the Baron's shoulder. Their voices drifted up, faint and hollow, to Will.

"These are not friendly shores," the Baron said. "You have one chance to leave before I force it."

"I understand your concern, Baron," the Fire Nation commander said in a haughty tone that didn't match his words. "We aren't here to start a fight, only deliver a message. What happens after that …" he shrugged.

"What message?"

"I must deliver it to the king. Perhaps you can take me to him?"

The Baron shook his head sharp enough for Will to see it from his perch. "You can deliver your message to me."

"But I promised Admiral Morgarath I would deliver it personally."

Will's body stiffened, and both the Baron and Sir Rodney seemed to suck in a breath at the same time.

"Admiral Morgarath?" the Baron asked.

The Fire Nation commander waved his hand, as if the matter was trivial. "Honorary Admiral. He doesn't have any ships to his name, but he does carry power, despite his condition."

The Baron asked, "What condition?"

"I thought you knew — he's a Waterbender. Based on my own tours at the Southern Water Tribe, I wouldn't have thought a Waterbender could be so vindictive, but Morgarath has proved me wrong. I hold that he was born to the wrong element."

"I will deliver your message to the king myself," Baron Arald said. "You have my word as a baron."

"Did you know Admiral Morgarath? Before, I mean?"

The Baron nodded tightly. "He was a baron here."

"Did you admire him? Was it painful for you when he tried to bring progress to this backwards island?"

"What is your message?"

The Fire Nation commander withdrew a scroll from his armor. "King Duncan" — he glanced up at Baron Arald with a shake his head — "I offer you this chance only once: Surrender now. Doing so will allow you to retain your office, though not your authority, and Araluen Island will immediately fall under control of the Fire Lord, with local rule falling to myself, Admiral Morgarath." The commander rolled the scroll up again. "So?"

"No," Baron Arald said.

"You may want to confer first with your—"

"I said 'no,' and the answer would be no different from King Duncan." The Baron signaled with one hand, and the Redmont forces shifted into battle-ready stances. "Leave. Now."

The commander tipped his head in a slight bow. "Best of luck."

Both sides departed the middle ground. Will saw a small motion of the Fire Nation commander's wrist, and there was a flame in his hand. Will's breath caught in his throat as the Fire Nation commander and his second turned to blast at the Baron and Sir Rodney. There was the deep thrum of a longbow, and a black-shafted arrow buried the commander's shoulder, a bloody armor-piercing arrowhead coming out the other side. Another arrow tore through the second Firebender's wrists, gruesomely binding his hands.

"To me!" the Baron shouted, as Sir Rodney bent the earth in a coffin-like prison around the injured Firebenders.

Redmont troops surged forward. The ground shook as they shaped the earth in the beach harbor, pulling up great walls of bedrock between the Fire Nation soldiers and their ship. Rock shattered in a bedlam as komodo rhinos crashed through the earthen walls separating them from the plain, and Fire Nation troops poured out to meet Redmont's.

Will slowly rose to his feet, bringing an arrow to his hand and fitting it to the bowstring. His heart pounded with the sudden turn of the situation. He scanned the chaos below for a clear shot. The Firebenders frightened him the most, but he realized the komodo rhinos were the largest threat on the battlefield; they shrugged off most Earthbending attacks and were able to free other Fire Nation soldiers from rock cages or barriers. Sighting the nearest komodo rhino, Will loosed his shot. It landed almost exactly where he had aimed, driving deep under the beast's eye. It screamed in terrible pain and swerved off-course, crashing into three Fire Nation soldiers along the way. Will fitted another arrow, sighted, and released. This one hit the komodo rhino's front shoulder, bringing it to a near stop.

He heard the familiar thrum of Halt's longbow, and dark bolts flashed across the battlefield, each one striking in deadly precision. Halt felled Firebenders and soldiers alike, always aiming in the worst of the fighting to change the odds to Redmont's favor. Will maintained his shots on the komodo rhinos, disabling a second and distracting another, but several of his arrows embedded harmlessly in the ground. Soon, the battlefield was littered with soldiers holding injuries and others lying disconcertingly still. Most wore red and black, but more than a handful had Redmont's green. Will was down to his last four arrows. The fighting below seemed to be at an end, only minutes after it had begun. 

* * *

Townspeople from Wensley Village crowded Redmont castle's courtyard, great hall, and gardens. The castle gate was closed now, and the drawbridge across the Tarbus River removed as a temporary defensive measure. Alyss walked through the masses to offer food and a friendly conversation as a way to ease their troubled minds. With her olive branch pin and distinctive green and blue dress as markers of her courier office, she was approached more often than she approached others.

"Is it Morgarath?" a woman asked. She clutched a child close, while another held on to her skirts.

"We can't confirm anything right now," Alyss said. She offered the little information she knew, which was no more than anyone else had at hand, but the worry in the woman's face eased.

Elsewhere in the crowd, with a basket of apples and a warm smile, was Jenny, Alyss' former wardmate. Jenny crouched by several children, saying a few words that had them smiling and their parents thanking her for a measure of relief in the chaos. She noticed Alyss and adjusted her path to meet up with the courier.

"Any news?" Jenny asked.

"Nothing more than you know," Alyss said.

Jenny signed, shrugged. "I had hoped couriers might get information sooner than the rest of us." She flashed a smile and departed.

Alyss had thought something similar about couriers before her apprenticeship had started. Lady Pauline seemed to be an endless source of wisdom about politics, etiquette, history, even battle strategy. There was rarely a subject where Pauline didn't have an answer. Alyss had discovered that Pauline didn't have some unseen tap into a font of knowledge, rather she sought out information wherever she could find it. Courier's apprentices spent long days reading histories of Araluen Island and the world, deciphering the legal manuals of the Scribe school, and learning how to convey strong messages in a gentle way. After three months, Alyss felt like a fool for thinking she could know so much about the world. There was too much information for any one person to know it all.

Three familiar figures caught Alyss' attention in the crowd. It was the three Battleschool boys she and Horace had followed earlier in the day. The red-headed one kept glancing over his shoulder, and the tallest of the three had worry etched into his expression. They must have just arrived and received orders to report to the wall, like Horace. She found it an odd coincidence that the same day she and Horace had found the boys meeting a false Fire Nation soldier in the forest, there would be an attempted Fire Nation invasion.

"Or maybe not a coincidence," she said to herself.

Alyss hurried to Jenny. "I have something to take care of," she said.

Jenny held out her basket of apples, and Alyss added the remaining pears she'd been handing out. Jenny stacked her basket on Alyss' and continued working the crowd.

Following after the three boys, Alyss picked up a discarded blanket. If any of them questioned her, she could say she was delivering the blanket to someone who had asked for it. They didn't go to the Battleschool, which bolstered Alyss' suspicion. Instead, they went to the central keep, where the administrative and governing offices of the castle were held. Only one man guarded the keep door, since almost everyone else had departed with the Baron. This guard was distracted by several villagers' questions, and the boys and Alyss had no issues filing into the keep tower. Alyss gave the boys several seconds of a head start before following them up the spiral staircase that made up the outer portion of the tower.

Halfway up the stairs, Alyss wondered if she should have alerted the guard below. He would have intervened and stopped the boys. But, she reasoned, the boys could have feigned ignorance, saying they thought had they were entering a different tower and had been confused by all of the people shuffling about outside. If she turned them in now, they would likely be set free, and she would lose her chance to find out what they were after. They were going all the way to the top of the tower, to the Baron's office. Alyss ducked into an alcove a flight of stairs short of the top. She heard the boys whisper to each other, then the metallic scrape of a lock pick. The baron's office door opened with a squeak of the hinges.

Several minutes later, the door opened again. Alyss held her breath and remained completely still as the boys returned the way they had come, their feet soft of the stairs. The lead boy, a handsome one with blond hair, had a sheaf of papers in one hand. Alyss knew what she had to do, and she followed them, quiet as a mouse. 

* * *

**Notes:**

**AreiaCannaid** \- Thanks! Writing dialogue between Halt and Will is so fun and easy; they have such strong characters as John Flanagan wrote them, that the words just seem to happen without having to think about them too much.

Warm wishes to everyone, with all the craziness going on in the world. This Monday will mark the start of my fourth week working from home, which is the longest that's ever happened. It's such a small disruption to life, compared to what others are having to deal with in places more immediately affected. Thankfully, no one I know has caught anything (though there are some health care professionals in my family that have had close calls). Remember that it's okay to feel frustrated or sad or tired (or however stress or fear manifests itself for you) more often than usual; it's a scary thing that's happening, arguably one of the first times something like this has happened in our increasingly shrinking world. Stay safe, and make sure to keep doing what makes you happy!


End file.
